


Roses and Thorns

by tinytrash575



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Dark, Domestic Violence, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Life Partners, Loss of Feelings, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Obsession, Torture, Unconventional Relationship, and then everything becomes a mess, bellamort down to interpretation, the school years chapters are nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-03-23 21:25:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 44
Words: 79,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13796667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinytrash575/pseuds/tinytrash575
Summary: The story of how a girl with her whole life planned for her became a bloodthirsty woman corrupted by obsession, and how a boy who fell in love with his best friend watched her turn into a stranger as they grew up together. The turbulent relationship of Bellatrix Black and Rodolphus Lestrange. Also on ff.net. Ignores Cursed Child.





	1. First day ay Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this fic on and off since 2013 when I was still at school, starting chapters sporadically through university, and now that I'm working I've had enough time to write enough consecutive chapters to post this. It's been five years in the making, but I'ts finally going out there, so I don't know how frequently I'll update, but I plan on completing it. Enjoy.

The whistle of the old train blew noisily as they wandered along the train carriages to try and find a place to sit, expelling steam into the air surrounding the hundreds of students still outside bidding farewell to parents. There were two of them, a taller boy with tousled mousy hair and pale blue eyes, the second a girl almost as tall as the young boy, she had piercing brown eyes and her hair was a wild mass of raven curls flowing freely behind her. Both of them dragged large brown suitcases.

"How much further Evan?" the girl asked, a clearly impatient tone to her voice.

"Not much longer, we like to sit right at the back, it's less crowded," Evan explained as they passed through the crowded train. The girl could feel groups of boys staring at her through the carriage windows, their eyes scanning every inch of her. She could feel them watching as she passed, covertly reveling in the attention until Evan shot them a look and they soon recoiled. Once they reached the far end of the train the pair took their seats, opposite them sat three boys.

"Alright there Rosier, who's this?" asked the closest, with a smirk.

"This is my cousin Bellatrix, she's a first year," explained Evan. Bellatrix shot him a look.

"I can introduce myself Evan," she asserted before courteously extending her hand to the young men the way she had been taught to when introducing herself.

"Bellatrix Black," she said confidently, studying the young man who currently held her dainty hand. He was thin with gangly legs and short brown hair, his dark eyes met hers.

"Wilkes," the young man replied. "I'm a close friend of your cousin's."

"Pleasure to meet you, Wilkes," she drawled, before then moving on to introduce herself to Jugson and Goyle respectively. She spent the rest of the train ride listening and occasionally contributing to the conversation flowing in their cart, pleased that she’d managed to make friends before even arriving.

Once they were off the train and the first years were separated from the other students as they made their way up to the castle. Bellatrix had kept to herself mostly on the way to the castle, she didn't want to find herself accidentally socializing with mudbloods or blood traitors, and she wasn't concerned about talking to anybody, she already had Evan and his friends. But she did like to watch them, to see the look in their eyes when they realized that they were sharing a boat with a Black, when they realized that they were inhabiting the same space and breathing the same air as a member of one of the oldest and wealthiest pureblood families in England. She smiled proudly.

Bellatrix’s impatience grew when the first years were shuffled into an elongated line that snaked its way into the Great Hall, but she was fairly close to the front so she didn't mind all that much. While she waited she stared up at the roof of the Great Hall, admiring the deep purple of the evening sky reflected through it, a truly magical creation. She felt like she belonged there already, captivated by the magical energy and elaborate expression that radiated through every inch of the place. Amongst magic was where those with good blood should be, her father had taught her, and it was only now that she could truly feel it in her blood, the magical ability that ran through her veins.

 It finally reached her turn and she strode up to the chair with the sorting hat and sat, feeling hundreds of eyes on her at the precise moment she sat down. She felt almost regal, looking down on all those that were below her at the tables. The hat shouted Slytherin after barely grazing the top of her head. She beamed with pride, knowing that she was where she belonged, ready to do her family proud as she had been taught to all her life. Bellatrix jumped off of the chair and made her way down the Slytherin table, enjoying the passing glances and thriving off of the cheers as she found Evan and his friends before sitting on the bench next to them.

"Welcome to Slytherin," said one of the boys on the opposite side of the table.

"Thank you," replied Bellatrix, before turning back to face Evan. She felt a nudge. She turned around to see a sandy haired and slightly plump boy, who was also a first year offering her his hand.

"Hi, I'm Avery," the young boy introduced himself. Bellatrix quickly tried to remember if she'd ever heard of the Avery's, or if her family had attended any events they had held, she came up blank, but returned the introduction nonetheless.

"Bellatrix Black," she answered, watching the realization of who he was talking to spread on the young boy's face.

"Black," he began, looking at her as if she was almost royal. "My parents attended one of your parents’ social gatherings during the summer, they've never hosted one, but they've been to many," The boy explained, highlighting his parents’ status. He flinched under Bellatrix's unyielding eye contact, accepting himself as inferior.

The evening dragged on and the cheers rose every time a new first year joined the Slytherin table. Bellatrix and Avery began to talk for a while, introducing him to Evan and the others. Avery told stories of his father's time at Hogwarts and all the rumours he had told him and Bellatrix shared stories that her family had told her and also which teachers her family warned were muggle lovers, at which Avery grimaced, his eyes revealing an unsaid promise to cause as much trouble as possible for the teachers mentioned, and Bellatrix would be happy to join him.

Another exceptionally loud cheer rocked the Slytherin table, the loudest of which coming from a group of older boys a little further down from Avery and Bellatrix. A first year boy came strutting down towards them, stopping momentarily as one of the loud older boys ruffled his hair and placed a large arm around the boy before playfully shoving him further in Bellatrix and Avery's direction. Bellatrix hadn't paid much attention to the other new Slytherins but this one stood out. He exuded the charm that could only come from being raised in the heights of upper class society like she was, his confidence rivaled hers, and his look of contempt for the students on the other tables mirrored her own.

The boy inserted himself between Bellatrix and Avery and sat down on the bench. Avery clearly thought this rude, but Bellatrix did not, honestly she shared a sense of entitlement and she probably would have done something similar if she did not already have people to sit with. She now had proper chance to study the boy, she had to know who he was, why he felt himself to be up at her level? He had dark brown hair that curled slightly at the ends and hazel eyes, an eye colour which Bellatrix had rarely seen, he was well groomed with a charming smile and she could tell immediately that he was from a very wealthy family. She cleared her throat and the boy turned to face her.

"And your name is?" she drawled, clearly and confidently, sending her direct focus onto the newcomer. The boy smirked, looking her up and down swiftly.

"Ladies first," He replied, both taking immediate control of the conversation and quickly directing attention away from himself, an unusual feature of a standard greeting but one that inspired intrigue. A cheeky glint appeared in his eyes as they bore into Bellatrix's, confirming the sense of arrogance that he exuded when he first joined the table.

"Considering that you just placed yourself between Mr Avery and I in the middle of our conversation, I think that you should introduce yourself first," Bellatrix countered, challenging his authority and replacing it with her own, but he didn't shy away under her stare like Avery did, he matched it.

"Ladies first, I insist," he began, flashing Bellatrix another charming smile, but struggling to hide his annoyance that she was challenging him, which only fuelled her more. "And besides, I must know who you are in order to decide whether to apologize or not."

"Bellatrix Black," she answered silkily, extending her hand lazily for the boy to take. She hoped to see his reaction, see the look on his face when he realized who he'd been speaking to, but grew frustrated when his arrogance did not waver. He must think himself pretty important, she thought as she waited for his answer.

"Rodolphus Lestrange," he replied, taking her hand gently in his own and giving it a slight squeeze. He noticed Bellatrix's eyes boring into his and offered an assertive stare that mirrored hers exactly. He attempted to subtly study her facial expressions, assess his impression on her, but her charming poker face would not falter.

"In that case Miss Black, you have my sincere apologies for interrupting your conversation with Mr Avery," said Rodolphus, bowing his head slightly. Bellatrix flashed him a smile, acknowledging him as someone of equal status. He could prove to be a powerful ally, she thought to herself.

"Good," she replied, still flashing the same confident smile, presenting him with a challenge. Rodolphus kept face, though on the inside he could feel himself filling with intrigue. Bellatrix Black had just sparked his interest even more. He brought his eyes back up to hers, matching the mischievous glint in them, accepting her challenge.


	2. The start of something

It was a cold morning, one of those deceptive cold mornings where the sky was blue and cloudless but the chill in the wind felt like ice, turning your ears numb and your cheeks rosy. The small group of students stood gathered outside on the field in different groups, separated mostly by the colours of their ties. Leaning casually against the castle wall and away from the other groups of chattering first years stood three Slytherin’s, Avery, Black and Lestrange.

"How much longer is this Hooch woman going to be?" sighed Rodolphus, leaning his head to the side over towards the large wooden door where their flying teacher would soon emerge.

"Feeling impatient Lestrange?" teased Bellatrix as long, thick tendrils of hair blew across her face in the icy breeze, making a small effort to keep them out of her eyes by tucking them behind her ears. Rodolphus averted his attention from the gate towards his friend and shot her a look.

“Me, impatient?" He laughed, a mischievous glint evident in his eye as he watched curiosity spread across Bellatrix's face, he could see her already planning her counter argument for whatever he was about to say next.

"Coming from you I find this comment highly ironic, I've known you for one week and already I know that you have the patience of an excitable child," he said playfully, raising one dark eyebrow and smirking proudly. Bellatrix bit her lip as she studied the mischief in his eyes and thought of a way to best him. He was right, she was very impatient, right now she was almost jumping up and down in anticipation of Madam Hooch's arrival, but she refused to let on that he'd called her.

"Is that so? You've got some cheek Lestrange," countered Bellatrix, smirking. Rodolphus began to notice a mischievous glint that rivaled his own in her deep brown eyes. The cheeky glances and playful comments drew him to her even more. He smirked right back at her, feeling some strange determination stirring in his chest every time she called him out, eager to banter back.

"What, for simply being honest?" he replied, shrugging his shoulders and trying to feign innocence.

"For thinking that you know me when actually you have much to learn Lestrange," Bellatrix answered, leaning towards him slightly and raising one eyebrow. Rodolphus chuckled slightly before leaning down so his face was almost level with hers.

"As do you, Black," he said. The pair exchanged a quick glance before Avery nudged Rodolphus in the side. He grunted and shot Avery an annoyed look.

"She's here, I see her," explained Avery. Both turned their heads towards the wooden door where the teacher now stood. She was a stern looking woman with fair hair that was cropped short so it spiked upwards in different angles.

"It's about time," said both Bellatrix and Rodolphus in unison. They both looked at each other and rolled their eyes before the three of them moved closer to the larger group of students, choosing to stand with Walden Macnair, a friend from their classes.

"Follow me first years," called Madam Hooch from somewhere behind a large group of Gryffindor students and everyone began to follow her further across the field towards two lines of broomsticks placed in neat rows. Hooch's orders were clear, Gryffindors one side, Slytherins the other.

"Welcome first years, to your first flying lesson," the woman began, her voice was sharp and demanded attention. She wore thick robes which billowed in the wind and a strange necklace which reflected the sunlight into the student’s eyes if they stood at the right angle.

"I don't need flying lessons, I’ve already flown my brother's broom before, he's a beater for the Slytherin Quiddich team," boasted Rodolphus to Avery and Bellatrix with a confident smile. Neither seemed to look very impressed.

"I flew my father's broom once," began Avery, his facial impression telling that this was going to be a less than impressive story. "I lost control and smashed through an upstairs window."

"That explains a lot then," laughed Rodolphus, earning a snigger from Bellatrix, and the attention of Madam Hooch.

"Quiet you three! Or I shall take ten points from Slytherin," she shouted sternly. All three froze, shutting their mouths simultaneously, however Bellatrix and Rodolphus were fighting to contain their laughter.

"Now," began Madam Hooch once the class had settled. " first I would like you to hold your right hand over the broom and say up," she instructed.

A slowly rising chorus of "up's" began to fill the air, hitting a more frustrated tone when the brooms would to nothing but lift an inch off the grass , sounding like a flock of seagulls fighting over the last scrap of food as Madam Hooch studied them.

"Up!" spat Avery and Rodolphus in unison, both clearly growing more and more agitated with each try.

"Well maybe if you focused instead of trying to impress everyone it would work," called Bellatrix. Rodolphus and Avery both stopped to shoot her a look, although they both knew who the comment was aimed at.

"Alright then Black, you do It," challenged Rodolphus, an arrogant look on his face. Bellatrix simply smirked at him, whilst Avery returned to failing to raise his broom.

"Up," she called clearly, and the broom rose about two feet off the ground. She turned back to her friend and met his gaze, beaming proudly as she wiped the arrogant smirk right off his face.

"See. Not as impressive as you think you are, Lestrange," she teased, dark eyes brimming with mischief. Rodolphus scoffed, turning back to his broom.

"Neither are you Black. I'd like to see you get it all the way up," countered Rodolphus, raising one eyebrow and smirking which made Bellatrix desperate to wipe the smirk off.

"Okay then," she replied confidently, refusing to break eye contact. Rodolphus bit his lip, as if to stop an even wider smirk from forming. The pair both turned to their brooms.

"Up," commanded Rodolphus, and the broom rose to the same height Bellatrix's was. He stole a glance over at Bellatrix.

"Up," she said, and the broom rose even higher. She looked over at Rodolphus.

"Up."

"Up."

It became a challenge. The brooms kept rising higher as the pair exchanged sideways glances, checking who was winning. The race was settled a few seconds later when Bellatrix's broom shot straight up into her hand at her command. She grinned smugly.

"Excellent," praised madam Hooch, who had been watching the entire time. Which only fuelled the fire of her accomplishment. She turned to face Rodolphus, whose broom soon shot straight into his hand. She eyed him haughtily as he raised his eyebrows at her. His hazel eyes met hers, and whilst they suggested that he was not greatly bothered by Bellatrix's little blow to his ego, the way he chewed on his bottom lip said otherwise.

"Pfft, you wait until she lets us on them, then I’ll show you real skill with a broom," he bragged, raising his nose in the air. Bellatrix just looked at him, raising her eyebrows in a challenging manner as she folded her arms over her chest.

"Or just show me now, if you're that good," she challenged, the hint of mischief returning to her black eyes as she observed her friend, the way animals would eye their prey.

"Fine," Rodolphus agreed. Luckily for him, Madam Hooch was now distracted as one of the brooms had shot up and hit Fabian Prewett, a small redheaded Gryffindor student, in the face. Rodolphus mounted the broom and rose a few feet into the air.

"Oh please, anybody could do that, look," called Bellatrix, as she mounted her broom and shot into the air to join him. He gave her a brief nod of approval.

"Well Black, I’m impressed. Now try controlling the broom," he called to her, raising his eyebrows in challenge as he studied her.

"Really? How hard could controlling the broom be?" Bellatrix replied, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.

"Harder than it looks, Black," Rodolphus informed her smugly.

"We’ll see about that, Lestrange," Bellatrix grinned, determination firing in her veins. She wanted so desperately to beat him, to wipe that smug smile off his face.

"Guys, you should probably come down, Madam Hooch could see you," Avery called up to them, still not having managed to get his broom any further than a few inches off the grass. Both of them looked down at their fretting friend.

"Its fine, she's still fretting over that blood traitor Prewett," Rodolphus reassured him, or tried to. By the way Avery glared up at them it wasn’t working.

"And it’s not like we did anything wrong," Bellatrix added sweetly, a voice Avery just knew she would use to try and get herself out of the inevitable trouble she’ll find herself in in the future. "We were just showing initiative."

“You two are going to get yourselves in so much trouble,” Avery muttered, almost nervously. He didn’t want to get dragged into their mischief with them, not when there wasn’t any way he could lie himself out of the responsibility.

“Avery,” Rodolphus began, sounding almost bored. “Whatever gave you the impression that we cared.”

“And besides, we only get in trouble if she catches us, at this rate Prewett’s bloody nose is going to hold her attention for the rest of the lesson,” Bellatrix added, her voice dripping with disgust for the bleeding boy as she sat smugly atop her floating broom. The breeze caught the tail end of Rodolphus’ broom, causing him to veer slightly to the left.

“You call that control Lestrange? I’ve seen better flying control on a blind owl,” Bellatrix taunted, almost laughing at him.

“I’m perfectly in control, Black,” he called back at her, righting himself subtly so she wouldn’t notice.

“Try going higher then,” She challenged smirking at him. He shot her a look, like he was trying to feign boredom and grin back at her all at once before shooting a little higher into the air. Bellatrix grinned. This was only the beginning, this back and forth. The start of something so exciting that she never expected to find. She flew a little higher.

“Can’t meet me up here can you, Lestrange?” she grinned down at him, feeling like she could be on top of the castle right now.

“No he can’t! Both of you down immediately,” another voice shouted into the crisp cold air. It took both of them a moment to realize the voice belonged to Madam Hooch. Both of their brooms dropped to the ground.

“But we were only doing what we were supposed to,” protested Rodolphus as he straightened his robes out, staring at his broom on the grass.

“If you were actually doing your job rather than pandering to that idiot over there, we wouldn’t have been up there in the first place,” added Bellatrix with contempt. Color flushed into Madam Hooch’s cheeks and her lips tightened with fury.

“How dare you! Ten points from Slytherin, each,” she shouted, the anger clear in her voice. The other students stared wide eyed and slack jawed as she moved over to them. “This way, the pair of you. Flaming cheek,” Madam Hooch began marching them back towards the castle, never having been so rudely insulted by first years in all of her career.

“I credit you for your response there Black,” Rodolphus said quietly as the two of them trailed back to the castle behind Madam Hooch.

“As if I need credit from you, you couldn’t even fly higher than me, so much for your vast experience,” Bellatrix scoffed back, just loudly enough to earn a disapproving glance from Madam Hooch.

“That was only because we got caught,” whispered Rodolphus. They walked a few steps in silence.

“So you admit I won,” Bellatrix said quietly, a smug grin curling across her face. Rodolphus met her eyes.

“This time, Black,” he countered.

“We’ll see, Lestrange,” Bellatrix grinned, stepping slightly ahead as they moved closer towards the castle to await their punishment.

 

 


	3. Bells

“Now,” began Madam Hooch, staring down at the two Slytherin first years leaning against the wall. “Since you two have gotten yourselves in trouble with your foolish showing off not once, but twice in my lesson.” Bellatrix and Rodolphus exchanged glances. “Even after you were banned from using the brooms.” They glanced at each other again, this time biting down proud grins. “You’ll be taking your first detentions with me. Although from what some of the other teachers have reported, it certainly won’t be your last.”

“You lot just can’t recognise talent when you see it,” said Rodolphus cockily once it was clear Madam Hooch had stopped speaking.

“Be quiet Lestrange,” she hissed in response. “This is exactly the kind of behaviour that will see in detention for your entire time at this school if you’re not careful.”

“You seem to be under the impression I care, Madam Hooch,” he retorted, lacing his voice with as much boredom as he could muster. Something about winding up the teachers gave him a thrill like he’d never experienced. His comment earned him a snicker from Bellatrix.

“You can stop laughing, Black,” snapped Madam Hooch. “The pair of you, follow me.” She then began moving, and the two followed suit.

She led them through the main hallway, down a corridor along the outside of the great hall and then down a flight of stairs. When they reached a door, she stopped in front of it.

“I wanted to have you clean the quidditch equipment,” Madam Hooch started to explain, leaning against the wall beside the door. Bellatrix glanced around. She hadn’t been to this part of the castle yet, but she had an idea that they were somewhere near the Hufflepuff dormitories. “But there wasn’t enough of it, so instead you’ll be doing some washing up.”

“Washing up?” spat Rodolphus as soon as Madam Hooch had finished speaking.

“But that’s elves work,” protested Bellatrix. “You can’t make us do that!”

“I can and I will Miss Black,” argued Madam Hooch, looking thoroughly unimpressed with the pair of them. “Now both of you hand over your wands.”

“Why can’t we have our wands?” questioned Bellatrix.

“Because you’re going to do it by hand,” Madam Hooch explained.

“Like servants?” she spat.

“Exactly,” Madam Hooch answered, the slightest hint of smugness detected in her voice.

“But even house elves have magic,” Rodolphus chimed in looking equally as disgusted as Bellatrix at the idea of their punishment. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s perfectly fair considering the teacher gets to decide the punishment for the offending student, or in this case, students,” continued Madam Hooch, starting to sound more irate then exasperated. “Now hand over your wands.”

“Fine,” said Rodolphus, and then began withdrawing his wand at the speed of a snail.

“Don’t try and be smart Lestrange,” snapped Madam Hooch. “Hand it over.” He rolled his eyes and then complied.

“You too Miss Black.” She followed suit, shooting the flying teacher an even worse look than her friend had.

“Now get in there,” ordered Madam Hooch, opening the door for them and practically pushing them inside. “I’ll fetch for you in two hours.” The door slammed shut behind them.

“I can’t believe she’s doing this,” said Bellatrix, outraged as she studied the room that they had been thrust into. It was large with an open archway leading to the kitchen. One wall was nothing but sinks, and between the sinks were stacking areas piled high with dirty plates. Wooden tables with crockery both dirty and clean were scattered through the centre of the room.

“I know,” agreed Rodolphus, studying the room with as much scrutiny as she was. “Who makes the rules at this bloody school?”

“A bunch of muggle lovers probably,” Bellatrix replied, turning up her nose at a pile of dishes on one of the wooden tables, stools for the house elves places around it. “If they think making the students wash up like them is acceptable.”

“Still,” sighed Rodolphus. “There are worse people to be stuck in detention with, hey Bells.”

“I’m sorry,” said Bellatrix in response, turning to him and blinking. “What did you just call me?”

“Bells,” he repeated, hints of a smile on his face. “I was trying out a nickname.”

“Well your options are limited to Bellatrix, or Black,” asserted Bellatrix, screwing her face up at the idea of him nicknaming her. “Only family call me nicknames.”

“Merlin’s beard I was only having a laugh,” groaned Rodolphus, examining the incredulous look on her face. “You guys all call me Rod enough.”

“That’s because your name is stupid,” replied Bellatrix, matter-of-factly. “And why Bells anyway?” The obvious nickname is Bella.”

“Well I know Evan calls you that,” explained Rodolphus. “I wanted this one to be unique. And it fits.”

“How do you mean?” asked Bellatrix, her brow creasing as she squinted at him.

“Well,” he began slowly, starting to grin. “You’re loud, annoying, and never shut up when people want you to.”

“Hey!” exclaimed Bellatrix, her mouth falling open in shock.

“So come on,” said Rodolphus, inching away from her. “Are we washing these dishes or not Bells.”

“Don’t call me that!” she shouted, darting off after him as he sped towards the vast bank of sinks at the far end of the room, a smug grin plastered on his face.

They set to washing up without talking much, and when they did it was mostly to complain about how many dishes there were or how ridiculous it was that they were being made to do manual labour like servants. After an hour of consistent dish washing with very little conversation, Rodolphus started humming songs to himself. This annoyed Bellatrix, often resulting in her telling him to shut up. He would, for about five minutes, before he’d return to humming the same tune again, this time louder. Eventually, when he couldn’t hum at a higher possible volume, he progressed onto singing. This irritated her even more.

“Sweet Salazar would you stop singing,” said Bellatrix loudly, slamming a freshly washed plate down onto the side with the others.

“Only if you’ll let me call you Bells,” teased Rodolphus, offering her a wide smirk as she looked at him with disgust.

“That is never going to happen,” she replied, before grabbing another dirty dish, grimacing as she dropped it in the water and picked up the sponge.

“Okay then,” Rodolphus said cheerfully, turning back to his sink and starting to sing again.

“Shut up!” shouted Bellatrix.

“You know what to do,” Rodolphus stated gleefully, a small tremble in his cheek noting that his smirk was soon about to waver and be replaced by laughter. Bellatrix felt her face start to flush as she looked at him, clouds of frustration building inside her chest.

“No,” she said sternly, the rapidly mounting frustration spilling into her voice. “Why do you insist on this so much?”

“Because its making you mad,” claimed Rodolphus smugly.

“Is not,” huffed Bellatrix, turning back to the sink and trying to pretend he didn’t exist, and that he wasn’t right. She scrubbed vigorously at the plate, hoping that some of the tension would ease out of her through the friction of worn sponge on porcelain.

“Is too Bells,” Rodolphus replied, waiting just long enough that she thought he had finally dropped the issue. Rage flooded into her so fast it was as if she’d been engulfed by a tidal wave of red. Her temper had always been this quick, triggered at the drop of a hat and then steadily built until it exploded.

“I’m going to kill you,” she snapped, dropping the plate into the water and turning around, her eyes widening as she glared at her companion.

“Come try,” he remarked, bending is knees in anticipation of a chase. She took off after him, dripping sponge in hand, but just before she reached him he sent a large spurt of dishwater flying at her with his hand.

Bellatrix gasped, registering the warm, dirty water that had just coated her. The shock of it made her pulse ring in her ears. She took a quick hiss of breath before chasing after Rodolphus where he’d moved to the other side of the room, launching her wet sponge at him as soon as she was close enough to make an accurate shot.

The sponge hit him on the side of the face before bouncing to the floor. Bellatrix grinned as she watched him recoil, his head snapping back as the low thump of contact sounded through the room. Rodolphus didn’t say anything, he just shot Bellatrix a look before picking the sponge up off the floor and hurling it back at her. She ducked and he missed, and then she took off back towards the sink to grab another sponge.

They spent a good twenty five minutes throwing soaking wet sponges at each other, laughing and shrieking as each one made contact. By the time they were both out of breath from all the running and screaming, they were collapsed on the floor, leaning their backs against a low cupboard. Bellatrix studied Rodolphus’ sopping wet hair clinging to his forehead, smiling as she grew used to the uncomfortable patches of damp on her robes.

“Can anyone else say that they’ve had a first detention this fun?” laughed Rodolphus, looking up at Bellatrix after patting down one of the wet patches on his leg. The room was a mess, pools of dishwater everywhere, and only about a quarter of the dishes they needed to do had been done.

“Who says I found it fun?” questioned Bellatrix, trying to uphold some sense of preservation.

“The grin on your face,” he answered. She shook her head.

“Well,” she started, making her voice as flat as possible. “I guess not many people can say that.”

“Exactly,” added Rodolphus, sounding notably self satisfied. “I’m a one off.” Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

She knew they were going to be in even more trouble when Madam Hooch came in and saw the state of the room, but she couldn’t have cared less. He’d made the hell that was this detention fun, even if he had driven her mad to get her there. There was something about Rodolphus that stuck out to Bellatrix, more than just their equal status. Everyone she’d met at Hogwarts so far had bored her after a while, but he hadn’t, not yet.

“Fine,” she said quietly.

“What?” asked Rodolphus, confused.

“You can call me it,” she answered, reluctance lacing her voice. A clear message, _don’t make me regret this, Lestrange._

“Yes,” he responded victoriously.

“But I don’t want to hear anyone else call me that ever,” Bellatrix added hastily, warning him that if it got out that he’d worn her down and she’d allowed him to nickname her then there would be consequences. “Got it.”

“Got it Bells,” he beamed, winking at her. The urge to wipe the smugness off his face was too much, and she threw a sponge at him, but she was secretly glad that he’d brightened up her first detention.

 

 


	4. Special

The night sky above Hogwarts was murky with cloud as snow continued to fall. Inside the castle, movement was beginning to slow, students relaxing in their common rooms and teachers settling in for the night. Despite the cozy atmosphere there was a silent hum of energy that danced through the castle, as tomorrow would be the day when students returned home for Christmas.

On the lower levels however, activity was still blossoming as Professor Slughorn was hosting his annual Christmas party for the members of his renowned Slug Club, a collection of some of the brightest students and children from the oldest wizarding families. Professor Slughorn invited them personally and held private events for them throughout the school year.

The group was fairly small, comprised of students from an array of years and houses. The party went on until nine, before Slughorn told everyone to clear out, since everyone had a long day’s travel tomorrow. Two second year members, Bellatrix Black and Rodolphus Lestrange, dawdled along the corridor side by side as they walked back to the Slytherin common room, paying little attention to the other students passing them by.

“Well,” said Rodolphus as they moved along the stone wall. “That was a fine evening, wasn’t it?”

“It was acceptable,” mumbled Bellatrix, sounding bored. “As evenings go.”

“Must you be so negative about everything?”

“I’m not negative,” she countered, pursing her lips. “Everything’s just boring.”

“Well then what don’t you find boring?” asked Rodolphus, starting to smirk. “Me?”

“Oh no,” Bellatrix disagreed immediately. “You’re incredibly boring.”

“You didn’t seem bored when I was flicking chocolate mousse at that Gryffindor idiot,” argued Rodolphus.

“Well that wasn’t boring,” stated Bellatrix, rolling her eyes at Rod’s desperate attempt to have her appeal to his ego. “The evening as a whole, however.”

“I don’t understand why you don’t like it?” Rodolphus cut her off. “The exclusivity and sophistication of it all.”

“Sophistication is a stretch don’t you think?” she scoffed. Rodolphus wrinkled his nose in agreement. “And you can like something and also find it boring.”

“Um, no you can’t,” he argued, screwing his face up even more. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It wouldn’t to you,” she responded bluntly. “You’re an idiot.”

“Hey!” Exclaimed Rodolphus. Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

“Did you like your parent’s parties growing up?” she asked, the tone of her voice carrying some of the exasperation on her face.

“I guess,” Rodolphus shrugged.

“But did you also find them mind numbingly dull?” Bellatrix continued. Rodolphus’ eyebrows drew closer together as he tried to figure out where she was going with this point.

“Sometimes,” he answered.

“There you have it,” said Bellatrix smugly. “It is possible.” Rodolphus blinked at her, still confused as to what the entire point of this conversation even was.

“You can enjoy the idea of something more than the thing itself,” stated Bellatrix, unintentionally clarifying the situation to Rodolphus. He supposed she was right, but it wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with. Rodolphus tended to take a very simplistic approach to feelings and emotions, if he liked something then he liked it, if something bored him then it bored him, and he didn’t enjoy it. He’d noticed that Bellatrix’s emotions seemed to be somewhat more complicated, she always seemed so detached from everything. When he’d first met her, he’d thought it was a front, but as he’d gotten to know her he’d realized that she genuinely experienced emotion differently, as if some filter stopped her ever feeling them fully.

“So what you’re saying is you like the idea of Slug Club but not the actual thing,” he said, trying to rephrase what she’d said in a more simplistic way.

“Exactly,” Bellatrix exclaimed, looking Rodolphus right in the eye. He could tell she was pleased that he was finally on the same page as her. “We were handpicked from all of the students in this school because of who we are to be in that club, but the events are still boring to attend.”

“I think I’m with you,” added Rodolphus, nodding. “Clubs like this one, they highlight that you and I are different from the others.” He saw something darken in her eyes. “That we’re special.”

“Precisely,” she replied, her voice now different, as if someone had drizzled honey in it. Rodolphus was starting to recognise this tone, she usually used it right before they got into trouble.

“But then what about the others?” he asked, trying to disperse the uncomfortable heat in his stomach that he didn’t understand.

“Well he has to try and look impartial otherwise he’ll be accused of house favouritism,” explained Bellatrix, her voice twisting into a high pitched mocking tone at the end of her sentence. Rodolphus let out a quiet, airy laugh.

“I guess,” he said, not event realising that they were at the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

Bellatrix said the password and let them both in, and then they moved past the mass of older year students still gathered in the common room to sit at the bottom of the stairs leading to the girls’ dormitories.

“You all ready for tomorrow then?” Bellatrix asked Rodolphus once they were settled, their legs just resting against each other.

“Of course,” he answered cheerfully. “I can’t wait to get home. We’re flooing to the Chateau tomorrow night.”

“Nice,” Bellatrix replied, her lips curving into a small smile. “I can’t wait to see Andie and Cissy.”

“I bet they’ve missed you,” Rodolphus responded, noticing how her eyes lit up at the mention of her sisters. If anything brought out the truest expression of joy and fondness in Bellatrix, it was the two of them. “I missed Rab loads when he first started, wish I didn’t have to look at him every day now.” They laughed.

“Will you be bringing back any of those French sweets like you did last year?” asked Bellatrix, smiling almost sweetly at her friend as she leaned closer to him. She’d been intrigued when Rodolphus had told her that his family was well in touch with his French heritage, finding it particularly interesting when he told her he could speak a little French. This intrigue ended up being to her advantage in January when on the first day back after Christmas Rodolphus was passing around the best sweets Bellatrix had ever tasted on the Hogwarts express.

“Now that I know you like them?” said Rodolphus slowly, the beginning of a smirk forming. “Absolutely not.”

“Unfair,” exclaimed Bellatrix in half feigned offence.

“Well if I’m going to be getting you a present over break what are you getting me?” teased Rodolphus. Watching Bellatrix close her mouth before pushing her lips into a thin line.

“I’ve already got it,” she declared.

“Where is it?” he asked, attempting to call her bluff.

“In my robe pocket,” she stated, digging her hand into the pocket. “Close your eyes.”

Rodolphus found himself following her command, even though he knew she had nothing. He couldn’t explain why he did it, but before he had time to contemplate it even further he felt a sharp slap across both of his cheeks.

“Bellatrix!” exclaimed Rodolphus as her cackling laugh rang out around him, his cheeks stinging from where she’d clapped his face.

“I can’t believe you fell for that one,” Bellatrix practically sang as she set off up the stairs. “Night Rod.”

“Night,” he called back, rubbing his cheeks and shaking his head in disbelief. She really was special, a mystery that he desperately wanted to crack.


	5. Changing

The dark shadows of rolling hills melting into the midnight blue of the evening sky rolled past the Hogwarts Express as it barrelled towards London, with just enough moonlight to prevent the outside looking like a blurry abyss. The whole train was quiet, many students having dozed off from the hours of sitting stationary while the world moved around them. In a full compartment towards the back of the gigantic train, Bellatrix Black and Rodolphus Lestrange watched their friends drop out of consciousness one by one.

“Is he asleep?” asked Bellatrix, her tone bored as her eyes lingered on the darkness outside the window.

“We’ll know in a minute,” responded Rodolphus, drawing his eyes away from his foot, which was resting on the opposite seat, to glance over at Avery, close eyed and slack jawed by the entrance.

“What do you-” Bellatrix began, but was cut off by the sound of Avery’s snoring.

“See what I mean,” said Rodolphus, pointing towards the source of the noise. Bellatrix grimaced.

“That’s going to become irritating rather quickly,” she mumbled, returning her attention to the whizzing darkness outside.

“Try sharing a dorm with him,” Rodolphus added, discontent lacing his voice. Bellatrix felt her mind attempt to block out the sound of the snoring as she focused her attention back on the night sky. It was a clear night and the windows of the train weren’t fogged up, so she had taken to trying to watch the stars. It was a past time that her father had instilled in her as a child, steeped in lessons of family history.

“Are you not sleeping?” asked Rodolphus a while later, pulling Bellatrix’s concentration in the opposite direction. “I’ll let you rest on my shoulder if you want.”

“I could never sleep on this train with you lot awake,” she responded matter-of-factly. Rodolphus wrinkled his nose.

“Why not?” he replied, almost offended. Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

“Because I don’t trust you,” she answered, shaking her head slightly as the hints of a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

“What?” She rolled her eyes again.

“If you fell asleep, would you trust me?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at him as she gave him her serious look.

“I’d trust you to jinx my face,” replied Rodolphus. Bellatrix smiled.

“Exactly,” she said triumphantly, before turning back to face the window, leaning a little into Rodolphus as she did.

He was suddenly very aware of her body weight pressed against him, in a way that made him feel the need to move, to scratch himself, to do anything that stopped him thinking about it. Things had changed over the summer, for all of them. The transition into third year had come with a bunch of unspoken changes in everyone he knew, and Bellatrix was not exempt from that. She looked older, seemed older, and their once comfortable physical contact now filled him with awkwardness. He couldn’t describe it, for the first time in his life, he felt uncomfortable around others, especially her. At times he found her utterly distracting, heat rising in his cheeks when he processed why. He reached into his robe pocket and pulled out an unopened packet of Berty Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, shaking a few loose into his hand.

“Bean?” he asked Bellatrix, feeling her body shift as she registered his words.

“Why not,” she replied, angling herself towards him as he dropped one into her hand. “You better not have handed me anything revolting.”

“Only one way to find out?” Rodolphus said with a smirk. Bellatrix, who was now sat parallel beside him rather than slanted towards the window, shot him a warning glance before putting the bean into her mouth. Chocolate. He was safe for now.

They sat there in snore broken silence for a while, passing beans between them, Rodolphus watching in silent horror every time Bellatrix ate one as he knew she would probably smack him if it was a bad one. So far there had only been two incidents, both beans had ended up spat out on the floor.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” asked Bellatrix mischievously, glancing at Rodolphus as she tried to get the taste of soap out for her mouth.

Rodolphus grinned back. After the last bean she spat on the floor had landed perfectly on Wilkes’ shoe, he knew exactly what she had in mind. Avery was now laying with his mouth wide open, and getting a bean in there from the other side of the compartment certainly seemed like quite the challenge.

“And what awaits the first to succeed?” he asked, slipping into the exaggerative voice that he always took when they played around.

“I haven’t thought of that yet,” she answered, titling her head to the side as she assessed Avery. Rodolphus met her eyes briefly, before taking the bean from the palm of his hand and launching it in Avery’s direction.

The game commenced rapidly, the pair of them throwing beans across the compartment in the hopes of landing one in sleeping Avery’s mouth. The first person to land one was Rodolphus, when they almost had none felt. Smug satisfaction raced through his veins as soon as he heard the clink of the bean hitting Avery’s teeth.

“Yes!” he exclaimed.

“Cheater!” Bellatrix protested.

“You can’t argue with evidence Bells,” Rodolphus countered victoriously.

“Actually you can,” she retorted, pushing down the uncomfortable heat spreading through her body at her loss. “Very easily.”

“It’s my chasers skill,” bragged Rodolphus.

“Of course,” Scoffed Bellatrix.

“Hey,” he continued. “Don’t be jealous just because you don’t have my talent, Bells.”

“It was pure luck,” she argued, trying to contain the pressure in her chest as it leaked into her voice. “And I have talents you couldn’t even dream of.”

The smirk that followed her sentence almost stopped Rodolphus in his tracks. It felt like she’d shot him in the chest with her eyes alone. And her words, they’d made him forget to inhale. He gulped silently, failing to understand why this kept happening to him.

“There’s a reason my family are named after stars, you know,” she continued, the drawl of her voice distracting Rodolphus from the topic of their conversation. He then remembered it with a start, quickly planning his response in the hopes that she hadn’t picked up on his silent turmoil.

“Oh yeah,” he said, thankful the words came out successfully. “Then which one are you?”

“Do you see that group of stars right there?” she began, beckoning him closer until they were leaning against each other to look out of the window. He followed the direction of her finger until he saw a group of brightly glimmering stars. “The three in a row, that’s the belt. Overall it’s supposed to look like a man firing an arrow.”

“Yeah,” nodded Rodolphus.

“And I’m that one on the right, a bit further up,” Bellatrix finished explaining, drawing the outline of the Orion constellation with her finger.

“So you’re an arm socket,” remarked Rodolphus, shifting away from Bellatrix as soon as he’d seen what she’d wanted him to see.

“Shut up,” she responded, slapping his arm. “I’ll have you know that it’s the third brightest star in the constellation. And I bet you don’t even know what your name means.”

“Something French probably,” he shrugged. They both laughed.

“Hey, that reminds me,” began Bellatrix, shifting into position with her back angled slightly against the window. “When are you heading out there?”

“Two days time,” answered Rodolphus. “although it will just be mother, Rab and I. Father can’t stay for very long this year.”

“Will you bring me back something French?” asked Bellatrix, smiling.

“I bring myself back every year, don’t I?” Joked Rodolphus, radiating the infamous confidence that had temporarily escaped him earlier. Bellatrix laughed.

“Well maybe next time bring me back something I actually want,” she retorted, causing Rodolphus to gasp theatrically in mock offence, clutching his chest as he did so.

“I’m hurt,” he said dramatically. “Really I am.” Bellatrix continued to laugh. “And you ask me to bring you something back every year, anyone would think you’re only friends with me so I can give you French gifts.”

She raised an eyebrow, a wordless joke that that was the only reason she associated with him. The truth was far from that, but Bellatrix never liked admitting truths about herself to anyone. The way she felt about her friend was changing, slowly, but it certainly was. Being around him felt different to her now, like they’d somehow grew closer over the summer without doing anything more but write to each other. His voice was deeper, warmer, and that warmth held a silent pull over her. Whatever had happened over the summer before third year, she wasn’t overly appreciative of it. Her train of thought was cut off by the loudest snore that Avery, and possibly anyone, had ever released. She’d almost stopped noticing the snoring, filtering it down to background noise.

“Have we got anything bigger we can throw in his mouth?” she asked, watching Rodolphus laugh as the offending noise continued. Even though things between them were slowly changing, Bellatrix hoped that she could cling to moments like this, and pretend that they weren’t.


	6. A powerful friendship

Bellatrix and Rodolphus stood leant against the cold stone walls of the hallway, just before the entrance to the transfiguration classroom. The candles shined brightly, their warm glow reflecting off the walls. The only sound in the corridor was the quiet, metronomic tapping of one of Bellatrix’s shoes hitting the stone floor impatiently, repeatedly sending small puffs of dust up from under it and a rhythmic echo into the air around them. The pair of youths glanced at each other and simultaneously rolled their eyes. Bellatrix let out an annoyed sigh and Rodolphus ran a hand through his thick brown curls.

"If she insists on holding us here for another hour she should at least have the decency to arrive on time," grumbled Rodolphus, looking quickly at Bellatrix before leaning around the corner to check the top of the stone staircase.

"Exactly, one would expect the teachers in this place to display some kind of courtesy towards their students, but muggle loving half-bloods like her must obviously lack the ability to show good manners," Bellatrix added with a tone of utter contempt.

"You're exactly right, it's disgusting," Rodolphus spat. Just as Bellatrix parted her lips to speak, the loud rhythmic tapping of someone ascending the stairs began to echo throughout the empty corridor. The pair fired frustrated glances before studying the approaching figure slowly appearing at the top of the stairs.

"It's about bloody time!" hissed Bellatrix under her breath as professor McGonagall emerged at the top of the stairs, emerald green robes billowing out behind her as she approached the pair stood lazily against the wall. She looked both students directly in the eye, unstirred by their obnoxious glares.

"Well don't just stand there you two, inside," she ordered, her crisp Scottish accent delivering the instruction with added sternness. The pair hauled themselves into the classroom, dragging their feet and scuffing their shoes on the floor.

"What a warm reception," Rodolphus scoffed on the way into the classroom.

"Quiet Lestrange!" McGonagall replied curtly as she followed them into the classroom, closing the door abruptly behind them. McGonagall took her position at the front of the class whilst Rodolphus leaned casually against a desk, Bellatrix perched on a neighboring one, swinging her feet in the gap under the desk like a daydreaming child.

"Would one of you care to explain why it is always the two of you that repeatedly find yourselves in detention?" McGonagall sighed, looking at the pair in front of her. If she were a weak woman she would be willing to bet that she would have exhausted her effort on this pair some time ago, however she was not.

"Teachers simply don't understand us," explained Bellatrix, slowly enunciating each word, staring fiercely into McGonagall's deep green eyes, searching for a sign of weakness, running her tongue slowly over her top lip like a wolf seductively eyeing its prey. This was common practice, she liked to see if she could make them break, and had been successful on a few occasions, but McGonagall had been the hardest to crack in Bellatrix’s four years at Hogwarts, and Bellatrix was always ready for a challenge when one presented itself.

"On the contrary, I believe the reason that you so frequently find yourself in this position Miss Black, is quite the opposite," McGonagall replied coldly, watching the young woman fight to hide the anger boiling over in her eyes.

"Well then professor, explain to me how merely expressing one's opinion warrants an afterschool detention," Rodolphus questioned with a challenging raise of his dark eyebrows, followed by an infuriatingly arrogant smirk.

"Expressing your opinion is one thing Mr Lestrange, suggesting that the most efficient use of the vanishing spell would be to practice on students however, is both unamusing and unacceptable," explained McGonagall. Rodolphus shot her a mocking glance, making it perfectly clear that their attitudes towards any of her advice or lectures was very unwanted, and that their reaction to their frequent detentions was highly blasé, and this is what frustrated her the most.

"Well then why am I here?" enquired Bellatrix, flashing a thin, toothy smirk, certainly aware that she was trying McGonagall's patience.

"You know perfectly well Miss Black. If not for attempting to act on your companions suggestions, then for floating the snails meant for transfiguration an placing them on the heads and robes other students, and that applies to you too Lestrange," McGonagall explained, growing ever tired of the pair's sarcastic retorts.

"We were only showing initiative professor," drawled Bellatrix, attempting to muster her most innocent facial expression, causing Rodolphus to snigger loudly, both at his friend's nerve and the suggestion that they were at all innocent. "Nothing wrong with that."

"If only you two applied yourselves more academically instead of wasting your time and joking around at other students expense," McGonagall said with an exasperated sigh. She had faced enough trials in dealing with unruly and disobedient students in her time as a Hogwarts professor, but the blatantly disrespectful were the worst. Often Slytherin, they acted as if they were above the rules and above showing respect to faculty, every example of privilege and prejudice personified, and none fit the mould quite like these two.

"Careful professor, that could be construed as insulting, and how is it any business of yours how we apply ourselves, we're not in your house," argued Rodolphus, accentuating the end of his with particular distaste, the distain for Gryffindor house obvious and accentuated.

"You are both very talented students. Your behavior is a frustrating waste and needs to be corrected, you will be sitting your OWL'S next year and should be focusing your attention on that rather than disrupting my lesson," McGonagall continued, observing the tedious expressions plastered on the two student's faces before she described their punishment.

"The pair of you are to clean the classroom. Scrub the desks, transfigure all the buttons on the desk at the far end of the classroom back into beetles and put them back into the glass jars on my desk. I will return in one hour to relieve you," she explained curtly before striding over towards the door, leaving and locking it behind her.

"Did you see the look on her face, she looked as if she wanted to set us both on fire," laughed Bellatrix as she dismounted the desk on which she was sat and made her way over to Rodolphus, who was now sitting on the edge of another desk.

"Serves her right for being late," sneered Rodolphus. Bellatrix gave a deep malicious chuckle before squaring in closer to her friend.

"You played that one well Lestrange," drawled Bellatrix, slipping into their now well-rehearsed routine of compliments, meeting his hazel eyes with a fierce confidence.

"As did you Black," he smirked in return, holding her large brown eyes in his gaze. They always did this, looked deep into each other’s eyes, studying and reveling in the mischief that their glances held, sparking each other’s determination. That mischievous glint in her eyes, that meant she was either admiring her work or planning something. Rodolphus knew, that the moment he caught that glint in her eyes that they were in for an interesting time. He greatly admired her audacity, her unyielding competitiveness, her ability to so easily infuriate others. Never had he known anyone like her.

"I know," She simply replied, a smirk tugging slightly at the corner of her mouth. She refused to break eye contact. Their entire friendship was heavily centered around challenge, and had been from the moment they met. Nobody could challenge them the way that they challenged each other, and boredom was something that neither of them could tolerate. Bellatrix knew that nobody could keep up with her, nobody but him. Others she grew bored with very quickly, but not him. To them everything was a competition, who could be the most disruptive, the most infuriating. It was how their friendship thrived. The fierce tension when they challenged each other and the mischief they caused when they worked together, was a power she had experienced with nobody else.

"Anyway, what sort of a punishment is cleaning the classroom?" scoffed Rodolphus, running a hand across the closest desk. “I bet I'll have it done in ten minutes," he boasted, aiming a cheeky glance directly in Bellatrix's direction, he didn't even need to contemplate her not understanding his indication.

"I think I could manage in five," Bellatrix sighed silkily, flashing him a wicked smile and raising her eyebrows challengingly before brushing past him on her way to the far end of the classroom.

"You're on," he called, studying her with an appreciative smirk when she had her back turned before he too set off to begin their task of cleaning the classroom. They set off immediately, watching each other work competitively against the other. The air began to hum with the energy of their movements, sparking from their occasional glances and bursting with energy from the small spells they would cast to try and slow down the other. And before they had even realized the entire classroom had been cleaned.

Both stopped to admire their handiwork before the winner sent a smug glance to the loser as they sat down at desks to endure the remaining time before they were freed from yet another detention. Every little thing to them was a challenge, a competition. They both went through life needing constant challenge, it was what fuelled them, what kept them alive. In the four years that they had known each other, this common drive had fused them together in a way that none of their other friendships compared to. They craved a challenge, craved exhilaration, power, and through their mutual need for constant stimulation they had formed a powerful friendship.


	7. There

The sea green glow from the windows was the only source of light in the Slytherin common room, excluding one lamp in the far corner of the room. Bellatrix descended the stairs from the dormitories after setting her belongings back in her quarters. The return from the Christmas holidays had left the common room buzzing with life. Students gathered in all corners, chatting loudly and bustling around under various hues of blue and green light. Bellatrix thought it far too loud, she much preferred the common room when it was just her and her friends, late at night when no annoying first years were crowding up the place. She scanned the floor looking for someone to sit with but nobody appeared to be about. They must all be up in their dorms, she thought, before looking in the far corner. It was there where she saw Rodolphus slumped lazily in an armchair. She strode over to him, plonking herself down in the chair next to his.

"You alright?" she said as she got comfortable in the arm chair, its cold leather sending a chill up her spine.

"Yeah, you?" mumbled Rodolphus in response, not even looking up from where his eyes focussed on the floor.

"Oh, I see you're still being miserable then," huffed Bellatrix, tucking a thick strand of hair behind her ear. He’d been like this ever since they’d met up on platform nine and three quarters. He’d been quiet when they’d greeted each other, to the point where it was almost downright rude. Bellatrix had seen the sly disapproving glances from her parents as they saw them off. And then on the train he was exactly the same. He just sat and stared out of the window, barely speaking, and when he did it was brief and curt. After dinner in the great hall he’d stomped off and she hadn’t seen him since. It wasn’t the fact that he was obviously in a bad mood about something that bothered her, she’d been friends with him long enough to know that he could be incredibly moody. But if she had to tolerate this annoying behaviour he could at least have the decency to tell her what it was all about.

"What?" he grumbled, more of a noise than an actual word. Bellatrix let out a loud sigh.

"Oh come on Rod, you've had the personality of a Flobberworm all day,” she told him, making sure that he heard the irritation in her voice. He looked up from where he was staring at Merlin knows what and faced her, his face exactly as miserable as his voice. “Now if you're not going to man up and get over it then you might as well tell me why you've been such a miserable prick."

"I have not," he practically spat back at her, his tone defensive.

"Don't try and argue with me," she warned, shooting him a fierce look. Rodolphus almost wanted to scoff at her attempts to intimidate the answer out of him.

"I'm not," he simply argued, the heaviness in his chest becoming wrapped in a layer of hot frustration.

"Yes you are,” Bellatrix replied loudly, not pleased in the slightest with this abysmal attitude he was throwing at her. This wasn’t like him at all. Usually, when he was upset or angry about something it was like the whole of Hogwarts had to know about it. “ Now talk or I’ll hex it out of you and don't think I won’t."

"Oh I know you will," he responded.

"Well then, start talking or I’m drawing my wand," she stated firmly, looking him directly in the eyes. He flinched away from her gaze, something he never did, closing his eyes briefly as he shifted in his chair.

"It's Rab," he said solemnly. Bellatrix let out a loud sigh.

"If this is another one of those sulks about being the younger sibling then I get enough of this at home, just...." she began, but Rodolphus cut her off.

"He went missing," he confessed, feeling the thick irritation that had built up in his chest relax slightly now that Bellatrix knew the truth.

"He what?" she asked, blinking in confusion at him. Rodolphus felt as if his heart had tightened slightly as he prepared to tell Bellatrix what he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone.

"A few days after Christmas he just disappeared and nobody is telling me anything," he recounted, glancing quickly at the floor as he pulled together the details of the last week in his mind.

“Are you sure he went missing?” questioned Bellatrix, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “Could it be for ministry work?"

"He would have said,” Rodolphus dismissed her, clenching his fists in his lap. “He never shuts up about work since he got his promotion. He just went out one day and never came back, and my father won’t even let us talk about it."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her arched eyebrows moving closer together as she narrowed her gaze.

"He just keeps denying it every time I bring it up,” explained Rodolphus, thinking of all the times he’d practically pleaded with his father to talk to him about it, to tell him what was going on, because he knew that his father knew something. He’d had to swallow his pride to try and discover where his brother was, and still got nowhere. It made him feel embarrassed, weak.

“Whoa,” Bellatrix responded. It sounded slightly disingenuous, but she grimaced slightly when he told her. He wondered if she was picturing her father having that same attitude to either of her sisters, whom she cared about more than anyone in the world.

“I mean it’s like he doesn’t even care,” Rodolphus continued, the bottled up anger finally leaking into his voice. “None of them seem to. My mother won’t discuss it either.”

“That must have been pretty shit,” Bellatrix responded, her voice taking on a rare tone of awkwardness. She was never very good at comforting people that weren’t her sisters, and it showed, but she was trying. She listened to him, she was there, and that’s all Rodolphus could ask of her.

“It was,” said Rodolphus, sighing slightly as the weight inside of him disappeared little by little.

“Everything felt different this time.” he continued, looking at her this time as he divulged more of what had happened over the Christmas break. “We came home from France early, and even while we were out there it was like they were all having private conversations without me, quickly shutting up whenever I entered the room. Rab and father especially. And now they’re just shutting me out even more.”

“Look, it’s probably nothing,” Bellatrix stated immediately after he’d stopped talking. “You’ll probably get a letter halfway through term from him telling you he’s been halfway across the world on business or something.”

“Doubtful,” he responded dismissively. He knew something was wrong, he wasn’t dumb. He’d been frozen out on purpose. Rabastan had only graduated last summer, walking straight into a ministry job and then landing a promotion a couple of months after. His life was perfect, on the outside.

A part of Rodolphus worried that his parents had found out about the one secret Rabastan made him swear to keep. Over the summer, just after he finished Hogwarts, Rodolphus was asking Rabastan why he wasn’t getting married, since their parents clearly expected them to marry shortly after leaving school. To Rodolphus’ knowledge, Rabastan hadn’t even had any relationships with girls at Hogwarts at all, and his brother quietly explained why that was. Rabastan told his brother how he wasn’t interested in _women_ at all, but the wizarding world, especially the high society that they lived in, wasn’t ready for the kind of relationships he wanted. Rodolphus had found the news uncomfortable at first, but Rabastan was his brother, so he knew he’d protect his secret with his life. He wouldn’t even tell Bellatrix, the only other person he felt truly close to.

“Whether it is or not, I’m not having you moping around here all day,” said Bellatrix bluntly, rising out of her chair and extending her arm towards Rodolphus. “Now come on you miserable git, I’m going to wipe that look off your face if it kills me.”

After the last of the tension finally left his body, Rodolphus cracked a smile. He rose out of his chair and let Bellatrix grab his wrist and drag him across the common room. He didn’t know where she was taking them, or what she had planned for them, but he did know that she didn’t have to do any of it, that even though he’d never tell her, she lifted his spirits just by being there.


	8. Protective

Wilkes and Rosier sat clustered in one of the far corners of the Slytherin common room studying for their N.E.W.T's, peacefully scanning their eyes over their books in the dull glow of the candlelight when an eruption of noise burst through the entrance to the common room. Both of them looked up to see what had caused the racket and their eyes met a gang of students of all years, swimming through the common room like a school of fish darting through the ocean at a rapid pace. As the group moved closer Rosier noticed that the initial swarm seemed to be crowding one or two students. Voices had now filled the room and the large group was dispersing into several smaller groups, small first years desperate to spread the news to their friends and roommates. Evan tried to look past everyone to see who enough was at the center but soon the center of this crowd came to him.

His younger cousin Bellatrix was marching towards him, flanked by Rodolphus Lestrange and Marianne Flint. She looked furious, her family was famous for carrying a fierce temper and from this genetic trait she was definitely not exempt. Her black eyes were fierce with rage and her face had flushed a deep pink colour, significantly more on one cheek, her lips were stained with what must be blood, her hair was protruding from an already messy ponytail at uneven angles and along the curve of her jaw sat two harsh pink lines. Rodolphus had hold of her wand in one hand, and her arm in the other.

"Get off me!" she spat at him as they made their way closer to their corner. Rodolphus simply let out an exasperated sigh as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp, before sitting her down next to Evan. Bellatrix shook her arm away from her friend hastily, clearly annoyed about being man handled. Rodolphus said nothing and took the seat next to Bellatrix whilst Marianne Flint just stood in front of them.

"What happened?" demanded Evan, slamming his textbook closed as he studied his cousin closer. Her cheek was not only flushed, it was bruised, and Evan could almost feel the anger coming off her, radiating from her body and pulsing in the air around them. She was so enraged it was tangible.

"I just had to drag her off of Rita Skeeter," Rodolphus explained, his voice surprisingly nonchalant. Evan, however, was not so calm.

"You what?" he hissed, a potent mixture of anger and disappointment at his cousin coursing through him.

"They had a fight. Not just a duel, an actual physical fight," Rodolphus explained, managing to sound both irate and utterly bored at the same time. This was nothing new to him, he and Bellatrix had been in this situation time and time again since their first year. Neither of them had an excellent record for physical or magical fighting, and Bellatrix’s feud with her roommate Rita Skeeter had been a prevalent cause for trouble ever since she slipped an exploding bonbon in Bellatrix’s drink in the first year after overhearing Bellatrix make a rather unflattering comment about the size of her nose.

"Not again," Evan whined. Bellatrix, who was slouched back in the chair with her arms folded across her chest, the blood on her lip dripping slowly down her chin, collecting in droplets at the bottom of it.

"I'm perfectly capable of explaining myself, thank you very much Rodolphus," she hissed, shooting him an annoyed glance before staring at her cousin, who was glaring right back, his eyes demanding an explanation.

"She started it," mumbled Bellatrix before sinking back into the chair, the way a sulking child would react to being scolded. Evan and Rodolphus exchanged quick glances, rolling their eyes together like a mirror image.

"Well where is she now?" Evan asked, determined to discover an answer to what had happened.

"In the hospital wing, with a very bloody nose," Bellatrix answered, the red haze slipping from her features for a slight second to be replaced with a smug grin, her voice self-satisfied.

“That’s not something to be proud of!” scolded Evan, which to his ire, only made his cousin’s smugness blossom.

“I think it looks better broken anyway,” she laughed, causing Marianne Flint to spit out a small giggle before she met the eyes of a disapproving Evan and promptly stopped, shuffling away to perch on the arm of the couch Bellatrix and Rodolphus were sat on. Wilkes had hidden his face inside a large potions textbook.

"How many times have you been in trouble for fighting?" sighed Evan.

"I don’t care! Nobody gets away with speaking to me like that," Bellatrix, spat in response, anger clearly bubbling up inside her once more.

"Why? What did she do?" wondered Evan. Just the look he received as a response was enough to tell him that whatever was done had seriously offended her.

"She called me a--” Bellatrix began to spit, before Rodolphus cut her off, waving one arm in front of her as if to stop her taking off out of her seat, like her rage was powerful enough to send her off the ground.

“She insinuated that your cousin had sexual relations with both the entire male population of your year, and ours," Rodolphus explained, with much more neutrality than Bellatrix would have done.

"What? Even me?" Evan asked, shocked.

"Oh yes," answered Rodolphus slowly, his eyes wide and his voice taking that strange tone that almost sounded amused, but not quite. Evan wrinkled his nose, disgusted, while Bellatrix sat up straight in her chair, now turning her attention to Rodolphus.

"Well there’s no need to sound quite so smug about it,” she spat in his direction. “And who told you step in anyway?"

"I was trying to help you," argued Rodolphus, indicating to Evan that this was a fairly frequent discussion that he was growing bored of.

"How many times have I told you that I do not need your help?" Bellatrix countered, gesturing one hand in front of her.

"Yes, well you clearly had things under control back there," Rodolphus spat back sarcastically.

“Well how would you have reacted then?” fumed Bellatrix, her voice raising a pitch. “If you’re so well exercised in self-control.”

“That isn’t what I said,” responded Rodolphus, trying to sound calmer than the thin line his mouth had become indicated that he actually was.

“Of course not,” scoffed Bellatrix, pursing her lips and glancing at the floor before looking back up at Rodolphus, ready to launch her next attack. “And you are in no position to criticize Rodolphus, given the amount of fights you’ve picked.”

“If you’re going to be a bitch then next time I won’t bother,” he replied harshly, placing his hands in his pockets. She knew that inside them he was clenching his fists. The thought allowed a temporary satisfaction to simmer through her.

“Please don’t,” Bellatrix responded. Evan closed his eyes in uncomfortable exasperation.

“You’re so fucking infuriating do you know that,” Rodolphus exploded, his jaw clenched and his hands now out of his pockets and tucked into fists as he waved one in the air.

“What? Just because you can’t take a hint and piss off when you’re told,” Bellatrix argued, rising from her seat and walking over to him.

“I don’t take orders from you,” he spat at her, his face twisting into an incredulous glare, like he wondered who the hell she thought she was.

“Obviously not, or otherwise you would have left me alone,” she seethed, inching ever so slightly closer. Rodolphus met her inferno of a gaze, adamant not to be intimidated by it. He was one of the few people alive who could ever claim that, Bellatrix’s death stare scared everyone. He rolled his eyes down to the floor, like she wasn’t worth more than a second of his attention, before bringing them back.

“Well I’d be happy to now you ungrateful bitch,” he said, his words cold but not angry, his will to care drained from them.

“What?” scoffed Bellatrix, almost laughing at his attempt to make her feel like the one in the wrong. “You think I should be grateful for you involving yourself in my business when I specifically told you not to?”

“I was trying to help, for the millionth time,” Rodolphus groaned, dragging the words out through gritted teeth. There was even a pink flush stretched across his tanned cheeks now too, a shadow to Bellatrix’s angry red.

“Why do you think your help was needed?” she continued. “Do you really think you’re that important?”

“Do you know what, just go,” barked Rodolphus, finally turning away from her. “ Go and clean yourself up and come back when you’ve stopped being such a bitch, or don’t.”

“Fuck you,” Bellatrix spat at him before storming off, Marianne Flint trailing off after her. Rodolphus let out a heavy sigh before throwing himself down on the couch, in the spot where Bellatrix had just been sitting.

“Your flaming cousin, Evan, I swear,” he groaned, shaking his head as he leaned back into the cool leather.

“Thanks for stepping in, mate,” said Evan quietly, nodding his head slightly to show it was genuine.

“Do you know how much trouble I get in for her?” grumbled Rodolphus, unable to keep his hands still where they sat in his lap.

“A lot, probably,” sighed Evan, knowing full well how completely untamable his cousin was.

“Exactly, and is she ever fucking grateful?” Rodolphus continued ranting.

“Probably not, knowing her.”

“I just,” Rodolphus began, stopping when boiling anger replaced any words he could form. He sighed, running his hands over his face and through his hair.

“I know, mate,” sighed Evan.

“She drives me insane half the time and I still can’t…”

“I know,” Evan continued, still gently, but firmer this time, like he was trying to get Rodolphus to give up. “But I’m glad she has someone like you.”

“I feel so protective of her, even though she doesn’t need it,” admitted Rodolphus, feeling his face start to cool down slightly.

“A person like her can’t be stopped, only helped.”

“You’ve got that right,” laughed Rodolphus. “But I can’t help how I feel, I just don’t understand why.”

“I think you do,” Evan said knowingly, shooting Rodolphus a look that made him think of things he wasn’t ready to admit to himself.

“Shut up, Evan,” he retorted, shoving his friend playfully. He knew that out of all of their group, Evan was the wisest one, the most reasonable one. He knew Evan knew how he felt about his cousin, and that he approved of the match, but Rodolphus wasn’t ready to discuss that particular secret with anyone yet.

“You think you’re subtle mate, you really aren’t,” Evan continued, almost teasingly, smirking at Rodolphus as he shot him a look.

“What did I just tell you?” he responded, jabbing Evan in the ribs. The two boys laughed until a tall shadow loomed in front of them.

“Mr Lestrange,” said Slughorn, who revealed himself to be the figure blocking their light. “ Miss Flint said you witnessed the fight that occurred a short while ago, Is this correct?”

“This is correct, Professor Slughorn,” answered Rodolphus, inching away from Evan.

“Well then, would you please come with me,” the professor requested, before preparing to walk away.

“Of course Professor Slughorn,” Rodolphus said as he stood, before glancing back at Evan on the couch. “That girl, I swear.”

“Later, Rod,” Evan responded with a smile, before turning back to his book like none of the last five minutes had even happened.


	9. The moment he knew

It was a regular Friday night in the Slytherin common room. Close to midnight, the usual green glow from the lake had died with the rising moon and now the lit candles scattered around the room were the only providers of light. The younger years had all gone to bed, leaving a large gathering ranging from seventh years to a couple of fourth years sprawled out on the sofas, passing around bottles of Firewhisky, usually stolen from a parent's study or the basement of The Three Broomsticks. Chatter and laughter filled the air as the gang decided what to do now that they were all satisfactorily drunk.

"How about truth or dare?" suggested Jugson, louder than necessary, swinging an arm around Wilkes's shoulder. Everyone shot disapproving looks at the drunk sixth year.

"We did that the other week," moaned Travers, a seventh year who slouched lazily on one of the soft armchairs. A moment of silence fell on the group as somebody else tried to think of an idea.

"What about strip poker?" said a dark skinned girl with sleek brown hair, sat in one of the chaser's laps. There was a mixed response amongst the group. Many of the boys gave a loud cheer but the girls seemed less pleased.

"I knew she was going to say that," Scoffed Bellatrix quietly with a tone of disapproval. "That girl is embarrassing, a complete and utter whore." Bellatrix, who was sat in between Marianne Flint and Rodolphus, took a quick swig from the bottle of whiskey being passed around before folding her arms across her chest. Rodolphus chuckled quietly at her response and Marianne gave a noncommittal sigh before resting her head on Bellatrix's shoulder to try and stop the room spinning.

"I don't see why you hate her so much," laughed Rodolphus before taking a large gulp of whiskey. Bellatrix frowned at him.

"Yes and I can see why you don't," she replied, shoving Marianne, who had now fallen asleep, off of her which resulted in her landing in the lap of Evan Rosier. Rodolphus shrugged his shoulders and attempted to look innocent, which caused Bellatrix to roll her eyes. The topic was then changed, as somebody made another suggestion.

"How about we steal old Craggy's broom again and hide it?" said Goyle, who stood behind one of the large leather sofas. Stuart Craggy, the captain of the Slytherin Quiddich team, had the fastest broom on the team, it was his pride and joy. When the boys had stolen it last year as revenge for a particularly early training session the results were highly amusing.

"No. He already reported us to Slughorn once for that, plus I’m pretty sure he sleeps with it now," countered Evan, with a note of boredom as he tried as gently as he could to sit Marianne back up. The rest of the group grumbled to themselves as the whiskey went round, waiting for the next student to suggest a game. Bellatrix told Evan to give up on Marianne, instead suggesting that he deposit her on the floor to make room for another person who would actually be playing the game once they had decided on one. He reluctantly agreed, Rodolphus offered to help him move the intoxicated girl, however being as both boys had consumed a considerable amount of whiskey themselves it made for a rather wobbly operation. Bellatrix sat laughing at the pair as Walden Macnair sat down in the empty space.

"What about would you rather?" called Wilkes over the laughter. Everyone stopped their drunken chatter to look at the boy.

"Yeah," agreed Travers, who sat slumped in the old chair so low that it looked as if he was about to slide out of it, and soon the entire group were decided.

"Okay then, but let’s make it interesting this time, boys," Bellatrix challenged, her voice surprisingly steady for the amount of alcohol that she had consumed. She sat tall against the back of the sofa, instead of slouched like everyone else, making sure to make eye contact with everyone in the room. "So who is to start?"

"We’ll spin a bottle."

"Are there any empties?"

"Here."

The game began, round after round of mutually unpleasant scenarios were described, the others heckling when they deemed someone’s offerings too boring. The options varied from sexual encounters with the ugliest students and teachers in the school to skinny dipping in the Black Lake, and every unpleasant thing in-between. Everyone was yelling and laughing at each other’s answers. The Syltherin common room was never as alive as it was on Friday nights.

By the time the room was beginning to empty it had definitely passed one in the morning. The common room was littered with empty bottles of Firewhiskey which some unfortunate student would have to clean up in the morning and students passed out on various pieces of furniture. There was currently one conscious person left in the common room, Bellatrix. Who was shifting uncomfortably with the weight of Rodolphus snoring heavily on her shoulder. His weight was pushing her sideways, her neck was beginning to ache and his thick brown hair was tickling the side of her face. She looked around for any other signs of life.

"Psst, Rod, wake up," she whispered, nudging his face away from her with her shoulder. The boy did not stir, leaving Bellatrix to let out a sigh of annoyance.

"Rod, wake up you idiot!" she urged, playfully shoving him until he fell away from her onto the full length of the sofa, however he still did not wake up.

Bellatrix scanned the room to check if anybody had been roused into consciousness by her voice before picking up the almost empty bottle of Firewhiskey from the table in front of her and tipping the contents onto her friend’s head. Rodolphus woke then, flailing around on the sofa like a fish out of water as he tried to gather his bearings. He stopped immediately when he recognized whose laughter filled his ears.

"Bells! What the bloody hell did you do that for?" he said, wiping the liquid from the side of his face. Bellatrix, who was perched on the coffee table, continued laughing.

"You fell asleep," she explained during pauses between laughter. Rodolphus sat up slowly, studying the space in his peripheral vision as the last of the shock wore off. Bellatrix, now sat on the coffee table sat grinning smugly at the state of her friend, hair tousled and whiskey droplets hanging off his nose. Her grin fell into a full blown laugh when Rodolphus began speaking.

"Was tipping whiskey on me really necessary Bells?" he slurred, clearly somewhat annoyed by his wet wake up call. He’ll get over it, Bellatrix thought.

"I tried everything else," she answered once she had stopped laughing at him. Rodolphus shook his head in reluctant acceptance and rose from the couch, indicating that Bellatrix follow. When she rose from the table however, fell straight onto the floor before she could put one foot in front of the other. That was the thing about Bellatrix, when drinking she kept up the image of sturdiness, so clearly able to drink the rest of the boys under the table, but it still affected her, not so much as it did the others but alcohol took from her the one thing necessary for her image, balance.

Rodolphus stared down at a red faced Bellatrix sat on the floor like a sulking toddler. She knew to never hide her eyes, to never look away for show of embarrassment, so instead she sat stony faced on the carpet of the Slytherin common room, adamant in her refusal to move.

"Well come on then," she grumbled, extending one arm outwards so Rodolphus could pick her up off the floor. He bent slightly, wrapping his hand around her dainty fingers and hoisting her upright, grabbing hold of her waist to steady her. She was still somewhat unsteady so Rodolphus wrapped the hand he was holding over his shoulder and held her in place as they made their way over to the stairs leading to their dorm rooms.

"You are the only person who I’ve met that when drunk, can retain perfect function of everything but their legs," Rodolphus said as they arrived at the foot of the stairs, unwinding Bellatrix’s arm from around his broad shoulders. She grabbed hold of the stair banister, smirking at him mischievously.

"Well you are the only person I’ve met who likes the idea of being molested by a giant squid,” she replied, giggling slightly. It took Rodolphus a moment, but then his eyes widened, his pupils black in the almost nonexistent light.

“Now I never said that,” he countered her. She just laughed even more.

“Yes you did, you were saying in your sleep how much you wanted it,” she added.

“Now that’s a load of shit,” responded Rodolphus, slightly amused by her suggestion despite its obvious falseness.

“That it may be, but how would you ever know?” Bellatrix answered teasingly, flashing him a devious smile. In the darkness Rodolphus could barely make it out, but he had that smile committed to memory, the way her mouth curved higher on one side when she did it, leaving a slight dimple, the quick flash of her teeth from between her lips, the way her eyes seemed to go even darker than they already were, if that were possible.

“You’re such a liar Bells,” Rodolphus fired back, trying to ignore the stirring in his stomach that happened when he looked in her eyes, telling himself that it was probably just the effects of the whiskey.

“Goodnight Rod,” She replied, her voice so soft it was almost sultry, before she turned her back on him and started climbing the stairs to her bedroom. Rodolphus didn’t move until she disappeared behind the curve of concrete that led to the girls’ dormitories, clinging to the lingering shadows of her silhouette until she was completely gone. He ran one hand over his face up into his hair, now sticky from where the whiskey had dried, and let out a long sigh. He couldn’t keep doing this much longer or else he was going to explode. He hadn’t realized the severity until just then, when she was teasing him and grinning at him and he couldn’t think of anything else. It may just be the alcohol, he thought to himself, but deep down he knew. This was the moment he knew that he couldn’t keep his feelings to himself for much longer, otherwise he might just go insane.

 

**Author's note: the girl that Bellatrix and Rodolphus are talking about at the beginning is Blaize Zabini's mother**


	10. The moment she knew

“Ugh,” groaned Bellatrix, throwing herself into the empty armchair beside her cousin, Evan Rosier. “He’s pathetic.”

“What?” Evan responded, looking up from his book and blinking in confusion.

“Look at him,” Bellatrix clarified, pointing to the other side of the common room where Rodolphus was leaning against the wall, leaning in close to a fourth year girl as they talked. “Draping himself all over that half witted fourth year, it’s disgusting.”

She continued to stare over at him, a grimace curling her lip upwards. This had been happening ever since they got back from Christmas break. It seemed as if Rodolphus was on a mission to date and ditch as many girls as he could, for reasons Bellatrix couldn’t fathom, or even wanted to consider for that matter.

“Is that a streak of jealousy I’m seeing?” said Evan teasingly, breaking the few seconds of uncomfortable silence which Bellatrix had spent glowering at Rodolphus on the other side of the room.

“No,” she practically spat at him, like he’d just placed something disgusting in her mouth. “Of course not.” She sounded more dignified this time, but still felt a hot heaviness creep across her face and chest. “I’m just embarrassed for him that’s all.”

“Explain,” responded Evan, closing his book and putting it down on the coffee table in front of them.

“We’re supposed to have standards,” explained Bellatrix, her voice loud with exasperation as she continued to stare over towards the other side of the room. She sighed, realising swiftly that she might attract attention, and that was the last thing she wanted during this conversation. She brought her voice down. “I expected better of him, although I don’t know why.”

Bellatrix was angry with him. She didn’t understand how he could be so reckless. Purebloods like them weren’t supposed to see people casually, they were supposed to pick a respectable match to last a lifetime. If she couldn’t escape that responsibility then why should he get to?

“You know why he’s doing it, don’t you?” asked Evan, sounding almost concerned.

“Why would I?” Bellatrix replied, trying to sound as bored as possible. “It’s none of my business who he sees.”

“Oh Merlin,” sighed Evan. Bellatrix looked over, watching him shift in his seat like he was fighting the urge to drop his head into his hands. “You’re a smart girl Bella, I never expected you to be this dense.”

“What did you just call me?” demanded Bellatrix, her mouth gaping open in shock. Evan rolled his eyes.

“I mean,” he started, looking her straight in the eyes. “It’s so obvious.”

“Well it _obviously_ isn’t,” she responded, chewing up his words and spitting them back at him. Now she was angry with Evan too. “If I haven’t figured it out.”

“He’s doing it to get a rise out of you,” Evan confessed. Bellatrix forgot how to close her mouth.

“What?” she asked, blinking and screwing up her face as the words sank in. She shook her head, looking from Evan to Rodolphus and then at the floor. That couldn’t be true.

“And by the looks of things, its working,” added Evan. She was too far in shock to be angry at him, even though she could feel her body detesting the fact he was right with every cell.

“Shut up,” she snapped, but she didn’t sound harsh, or even intimidating. She almost sounded scared. Evan watched as she continued to shake her head, the heat that spread through her chest earlier now ice.

“It’s true,” said Evan. Bellatrix said nothing.

“Well….” he prompted tentatively, hoping she wasn’t about to explode.

“Well why on earth would he want to do that?” Bellatrix questioned, her features still creased with confusion. Evan let out a silent groan. He was going to have to do all the work himself.

“Please don’t tell me you haven’t noticed he has feelings for you,” he responded, causing Bellatrix to whip round in her chair so her body was angled towards her.

“He doesn’t,” she insisted, her tone curt.

“Trust me,” Evan responded, making sure she held his gaze so she could see the genuineness in his eyes. “He does.”

“He can’t,” continued Bellatrix, her voice tight in her throat.

“He can,” Evan responded, making sure tone of his voice matched every other cue that he was telling the truth. “And he does.”

Bellatrix wished Evan would disappear. She needed a moment to think about this, to consider every implication of what he’d told her. She didn’t understand. Why hadn’t she seen it. She was smart, she read people very well, why hadn’t she noticed that her best friend, the only other person in the world besides her sisters that she rarely ever got bored of, had feelings for her. She felt almost panicked as she thought about it. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, _they_ weren’t supposed to be like this.

She thought she had found the one person who truly matched her, who understood that feelings and romance were something that she would never be interested in, that she didn’t need. They were close enough, she thought, that what they had didn’t need any of that. Their friendship was extraordinary enough.

“Well if he’s as besotted with me as you’re insinuating,” she argued, emphasising each word with increasing aggression. “Then why does he keep throwing himself at every girl who so much as glances in his direction?”

“Because you won’t,” said Evan simply. Bellatrix’s mouth fell open once more.

The shock was suddenly replaced with a fury so strong it hurt. How could he be so moronic to think that would actually work? That was the most childish way to get someone’s attention she’d ever heard of, not to mention counterproductive. How on earth did he think he was going to look, treating women like they were useless and disposable when that was the last way she’d ever let anybody treat her. Exemplary behaviour, her thoughts fumed sarcastically, that was really going to win her over. That was the furthest thing from what she wanted in a partner, what she’d despised about watching her parents’ marriage as she grew up. In the five years they’d been friends, he’d never had any romantic relationships and neither had she. How did she know that this wasn’t how he treated everyone he was with romantically?

“That’s just stupid,” she stated, her face twisting with contempt.

“I didn’t say it made sense,” argued Evan. “I just said that’s why he’s doing it.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” repeated Bellatrix, trying to deny the fact that it did, the more she considered it. “We’ve been friends for years.”

“Feelings grow as people grow.” These words sent a new wave of emotion into the tornado inside of her.

Bellatrix didn’t realize just how true they were until they’d been presented to her. They brought with them a bolt so fierce that it almost knocked the anger right out of her. They made her realize that she couldn’t hide any more.

An uncomfortable reality had hit Bellatrix over the Christmas holidays, when she was sat around the grand table at her aunt and uncle’s house, the historic family home. Her parents started to ask about marriage, if there was anybody at Hogwarts she was considering. Her chest had caved in on itself, this had been the one thing she had spent her entire time at Hogwarts trying to outrun, the expectation of marriage. She never wanted it, but she knew it was inevitable, so she spent every moment she could living exactly how she wanted. All fun, no control or expectations from anyone.

After her silence, her parents had made it clear that if she didn’t have anyone in mind, then they would start looking for suitable matches for her. That zapped her into action, she would rather die than have them take away the one tiny scrap of control she had over her fate. She told them that she had someone in mind, so they didn’t have to choose for her, she just had to make the right moves. And as she was telling her parents this, she was picturing the arrogant boy with hazel eyes and a streak for mischief that mirrored her own.

She’d known after a few weeks at Hogwarts that there was something different about her friendship with Rodolphus. They were so similar, they’d clicked automatically. He was exactly the kind of person she could lose herself in while she blocked out thoughts of her impending future. As they grew from children to young adults, grew closer and more mature, she could feel things shifting between them as they naturally did, so she fought it. She detached herself from it because it wasn’t what she needed. She needed him to make her forget about everything she was trying to outrun.

But that time was clearly over. She knew that as soon as the shock over the idea of Rodolphus having feelings for her turned to relief. Since it became a tiny glimmer of hope that the only person she would ever consider a relationship with was only acting like everything she didn’t want as a front, that her one comfortable option wasn’t permanently ruined.

“Then why not tell me instead of acting like such a piggish idiot?” she asked Evan, the almost warm feeling of acceptance being swiftly replaced by anger again.

“Because as you and I both know, Rod is a bit of a prat,” said Evan, the tension in his face easing when Bellatrix laughed. “He’s not good with feelings, he only knows how to deal with them by sulking or showing off.”

“Well I won’t argue that,” added Bellatrix, feeling some of the heat leave her face as Evan smiled.

“And you’re not exactly the easiest of people to communicate with,” Evan continued. She narrowed her eyes at him. “With all due respect.”

“Well he should know me well enough to know that flinging himself at any girl that looks at him would never work,” Bellatrix stated.

“But he’s blind sighted,” Evan defended. “And if you ask me, a little desperate.” Evan emphasised his point with a small grimace. “He wasn’t getting a reaction from you on his own, so he had to create one.”

“And how do you know so much about how he feels?” asked Bellatrix, feeling the need to expel the last traces of defensiveness lingering in her chest, and to make sure that he wasn’t giving her the wrong idea because he approved of them being together. She couldn’t be messed around with this.

“Well aside from the fact he’s been about as subtle as a bludger to the face,” answered Evan, finding it almost humorous that Bellatrix was still questioning it at this point. “He talks to me.”

“You two talk about me?” she responded, her tone either concerned or threatening. Evan couldn’t tell.

“A little,” he said quickly. “That’s not the point.”

Bellatrix shook her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Rodolphus and the other girl were no longer there. She hadn’t paid attention to him leaving.

“So if you want it to stop,” Evan began, breaking the small silence. “And I assume that you do, then you better act fast dear cousin.” With that he grabbed his book and left.

Bellatrix knew he was right, in that moment she knew that she couldn’t deny her reality any longer, she needed to act.

 


	11. Respect

Bellatrix stormed out of the classroom into the dim lantern light of the corridor. She had just finished yet another detention, which normally would not bother her in the slightest however this one had been excruciating. Usually she would have her best friend and detention companion Rodolphus to keep her amused while they made their way through whatever 'unpleasant' task the teacher had set for them but today the pair had got into a fight during the day and neither had spoken to the other in hours. Bellatrix mentally cursed Rodolphus for matching her in pride and stubbornness, deliberately tapping her heels louder on the concrete floor as he trailed behind her in complete silence. Over the past couple of years they'd frequently fought, and when they did it was completely unpredictable, either they didn't have enough words to scream at each other or they didn't speak at all. Those were the fights that Bellatrix hated and the one they were stuck in now.

Bellatrix made her way out into the courtyard, fully aware that Rodolphus would follow her but making no effort to acknowledge his presence. She stopped, leaning against the cold stone edge of the fountain at the center of the courtyard, feeling the cool spring air on her skin as drops of water from the fountain landed on her face and hands. She heard the footsteps stop behind her but refused to turn around.

"Are you now going to tell me why you were being such a bitch earlier, and actually answer me this time Bells, rather than diverting attention away from yourself," Rodolphus' voice broke the silence. Bellatrix's breath hitched at the mention of her nickname, the one that only he was permitted to call her, but still she wouldn’t break.

"As I was trying to tell you earlier, I do not think that you're simple brain would be able to comprehend, Rodolphus," she answered curtly. He knew she was annoyed with him, she only ever called him Rodolphus when she was serious, and the fact that she would not tell him why only angered him further.

"Y...You're doing it again! Stop directing attention away from yourself," he began, his voice raised. “You always do this and it's so infuriating, why can't you just tell me what is wrong?!"

"Why do you do it?" she finally spoke, almost whispering the words, quietly and coldly. Rodolphus stood silently for a second, totally confused. He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair before asking his next question.

"Do what?" he asked, the curiosity clear in his voice. Bellatrix finally turned around to face him, meeting his eyes for the first time in hours. They spent so much time reading each other through glances and eye contact that Rodolphus thought that he could sense the issue the moment her eyes met his, but he couldn't. There was a strange emotional rawness in her glance, an almost vulnerability that he had never seen before. He had become able to almost predict Bellatrix but this feeling was completely foreign.

"Why do you string along so many girls who are far below worthy of you?" she asked, staring Rodolphus straight in the face. A stern, cold look was etched across her face despite the raw emotion in her eyes which she probably wasn’t even aware she was showing. She took a deep breath, almost scolding herself for allowing herself such weakness.

Her thoughts travelled back to earlier that day when Rodolphus had entered the common room with yet another giggling fourth year practically falling at his feet. She could hear him flirting shamelessly with this girl who was nowhere near worthy of his time, and she could feel a tight ball of anger forming in her chest. She had to know the reason behind his behaviour, whether there was any truth to what Evan had told her. Their conversation had been playing on her mind for the last three days. Additionally, she was still annoyed with Rodolphus for being childish, so she took it out on him when he finally did come over to her.

"Excuse me," he began with a raised eyebrow. “But since when is my love life any of your business."

"I just think that you shouldn't be wasting your time with girls who are way below your worth, I mean people of our status should have standards Rodolphus," Bellatrix defended, slowly edging away from the fountain and closer to him.

“It’s not like it will ever amount to anything serious, I mean let’s face it once you've got their attention they actually grow very boring," he explained, also moving closer to Bellatrix, who was still staring at him with a fiery emotive glare that slowly filed with disgust. "And while you mention it, sure standards are acceptable but at least I make people feel like they stand a chance, you give off the impression that _no_ person in the entire school is worthy of your affections."

Bellatrix took a deep intake of breath, that last comment riled her even more than the cause of this entire argument. She knew that he wouldn't be able to understand. Throughout her school years Bellatrix had tried desperately to ignore the future she would inevitably face as a bored housewife honouring the bloodline, and recently when her parents had brought up the topic of marriage once again over the Christmas holidays she had been forced to think about it. She did not want to end up like her mother, a willing slave to her father's every request, she wanted somebody who would respect her and let her be her own person but at the same time be a worthy partner. None of the _other_ boys at school, who would have willingly granted her every wish, understood her. And none of the _others_ were worthy of her in her eyes.

"Well at least I set myself standards and don't allow every boy in the school to throw themselves at me, before using them and then casting them aside. It's disgusting!" Bellatrix spat at Rodolphus. She looked him straight in the face and saw a new light in his eyes, this was powerful but exposing, angry but vulnerable, a look she'd never seen before and a look that she was unknowingly giving to him too.

"Why do you even care so much?" he snarled, his tone growing more hostile than before, more personal. Bellatrix let out a frustrated grunt.

"You are so irresponsible, are you completely oblivious to the future that we face because of our status or do you just see all girls as things for you to exploit," hissed Bellatrix, growing ever more aggravated with him. She was using this as an excuse to get him to admit the truth, but the fact he’d been so immature in how he handled her not showing interest, just made her want to scream at him.

"Of course I'm aware of the future we face. And have you ever considered that the reason that I treat those other girls that way is that even though I may not want them on a permanent basis, they notice my attention.” Bellatrix felt her heart start hammering against her chest like it was about to burst out of her.

“And yes they are weak and quiet and submissive _,_ and that is the complete opposite to what I want in a wife, but at least I know where I stand with _them_ ," Rodolphus argued, still not breaking eye contact as he watched Bellatrix react, hoping that soon she would be able to see the implications in his words.

"And have you ever considered," Bellatrix began, in a slightly calmer tone to the rest of the discussion. She swallowed hard, hatred blossoming inside her for what she was about to say, but also the knowledge that it was necessary. She had to tell him. "That maybe I treat everyone like they don't stand a chance because I _know_ what I want but I don't know where _I_ stand. I want to be respected and not just as a wife, but as a woman too. I want to know that the _one_ person I deem acceptable to share my life with will respect me."

Rodolphus suddenly froze. He was smart enough to piece together the implicit meaning of what Bellatrix had just said and a whole new fuel of emotions churned inside him, he tried desperately not to grin. He was surprised it had taken him this long to work it out considering he knew her so well, but maybe he was so preoccupied with trying to make her react that he lost sight of how he was making himself appear to her. He mentally slapped himself.

"It's one thing to respect your friends on a fully platonic basis," she began, still speaking softly as the flush of anger faded from Rodolphus' cheeks. She saw him trying to steady his breathing and simply watched as the rise and fall of his chest slowed to its normal rhythm before meeting his eyes again. “But anything further, one needs to know that nothing will change."

Rodolphus considered how he would answer her as she strode over to him. He had wondered about this moment several times and how it would commence, whether it even would at all, and none of his expectations had prepared him for this. He was growing slightly nervous as he mentally fumbled over his next sentence, although he didn't let it show. He simply held eye contact with Bellatrix, observing the way her emotions shone through her eyes. She was no longer mad, with him at least, and now she was studying him, looking for any tiny giveaway in his body language for what he was about to say.

"You deserve the utmost respect, in friendship or otherwise," he replied softly before pulling her close to him and planting a soft but desperate kiss on her lips. She could feel him smile into the kiss when she began to kiss him back with just as much urgency, wrapping her arms around his neck. Bellatrix too felt herself smiling into the kiss, which she had been waiting for a surprisingly long time. She had been physically attracted to Rodolphus for as long as they'd known each other but before it had never caused her any concern, it just made their frequent competitions with each other more fun, made her feel like she had some kind of power over him since his looks didn’t affect her the way good looks affected other people. But now that she had been forced to consider her future she knew that he was the only person she was willing to share it with and was surprised that she hadn't realized that sooner.

"What took you so bloody long?" Bellatrix scolded playfully once they finally broke apart.

"I honestly don't know," laughed Rodolphus before giving her another quick kiss.

"So how are we going to go about this?" asked Bellatrix, her voice almost sullen, knowing full well that the moment she announced the news to her parents they would be expecting engagement rings.

"The same way that anyone else would,” he began, giving her a cheeky eyebrow raise, one of his little quirks that she had missed all day. “We’ll both write home as soon as possible letting our parents know that we are seeing each other, we won’t speak of anything more with them until we graduate."

"Sounds like a plan, Rod," she replied, giving him her signature smirk, causing him to smile at the fact she had gone back to calling him by his nickname.

"You and me," began Rodolphus, placing his hands on her waist. "We'll be a force to be reckoned with Bells, just you watch," he said with a smirk before motioning for the both of them to go back inside.


	12. Everything and nothing

The great hall was roaring with life. It was Saturday morning so nobody was in a rush to scarf down their breakfast and hurry off to class, meaning that the students took their time engaging in leisurely conversations as they helped themselves to the plethora of foods spread across the four gigantic tables. Bellatrix and Rodolphus wandered in late, making their way across the room to the spot at the Slytherin table where their friends sat. Two empty seats were awaiting them.

“Well that was a wonderful start to the day,” said Bellatrix sarcastically as she sat in the seat opposite her cousin. She looked at Wilkes, who was sat next to him. “Hey, pass me the pumpkin juice.” He slid the jug to her without looking up from his plate.

“Why, what did you do?” Asked Avery, who Rodolphus had sat next to.

“Nothing too catastrophic I hope,” added Evan.

“Yeah, where have you been?” asked Macnair from beside Wilkes. The pair of them burst out laughing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Rodolphus responded playfully, raising an eyebrow. Bellatrix swatted him on the arm, covering her mouth as she continued laughing.

“Shut up,” she warned him, regaining her composure a split second later. She looked at the three boys on the other side of the table. “Old Sluggie wanted a word.”

“What about?” asked Evan. Rodolphus started laughing again. Bellatrix shot him a look, but the boys saw her lips twitch for a split second, trying not to join him.

“Just something he saw that’s all,” she explained quietly, determined not to break eye contact with them. Within two seconds they understood what she’d meant, and two of them made comical cheers.

“Ugh,” groaned Evan loudly. “I’m eating my breakfast, the last thing I want to hear about is our head of house catching you two snogging in a broom cupboard.”

“I’m sure it was a bit more than snogging Rosier,” Wilkes added, a sleazy smile on his face. The rest of the group had figured out right away that something had changed between Bellatrix and Rodolphus after that afternoon in the courtyard, even if they never said anything outright. That had been a month ago. They’d decided not to take things slowly since they’d been friends for so long and, as Bellatrix put it, it would feel too much like a relationship. It was really just a new layer to their friendship. The only waiting they’d actually done was the time it took Bellatrix to steal the ingredients for contraceptive potion from the potions supply cupboard and brew the thing.

“Shut up,” warned Bellatrix, her face displaying no hint of emotion. While she wasn’t one to feel shame, she also hated people knowing her business, so she was not prepared to let this conversation continue.

“So that’s why you weren’t in bed when I woke up,” exclaimed Avery as he looked at Rodolphus, around the same time Bellatrix told Wilkes to be quiet.

“Yeah, Wilkes shut up, I don’t want to know,” added Evan, looking as done with this conversation as Bellatrix felt. He shot one glower at Wilkes and then returned to aggressively cutting an egg.

“He’s only interested because he couldn’t get attention from a troll,” said Rodolphus, who was actually finding the entire exchange rather amusing, but he knew Bellatrix wouldn’t, so he deflected the attention onto Wilkes.

“Or a mudblood,” added Bellatrix. Wilkes screwed his face up at her. His cheeks turning red.

“Like I’d go there,” he replied, making sure he added enough disgust to his voice.

“Are you sure?” teased Rodolphus, wiggling his eyebrows as he drew the words out. Everyone but Wilkes snickered.

“I bet he’d go begging to that pile of scum over there he’s that desperate,” Bellatrix continued, glancing over at a Hufflepuff girl in their year on the other side of the room.

“Piss off,” Wilkes whined. Bellatrix smirked at him.

“Well anyway what’s the big deal?” began Avery once the laughter had died down. “Stuff like that happens all the time.”

“It can’t get back to my parents that’s what, you dumb oaf,” explained Bellatrix, leaning over so she was practically in Rodolphus’s lap.

“Exactly,” he continued once she’d sat back properly in her seat. “ I’ll have my head mounted to the wall along with the house elves.” Everyone but Evan laughed. Bellatrix nudged his leg with her knee under the table and shook her head.

“Relax Rosier, what’s your problem?” asked Wilkes, noticing Evan still looked like a worm had just landed in his drink.

“She’s my cousin,” he explained flatly, staring at Wilkes like he was stupid.

“Oh yeah,” replied Wilkes, the bewildered expression slowly fading from his face. After a second passed he resumed eating his breakfast, struggling to skewer the last bit of sausage onto his fork.

“So are you two going to be getting married then, or what?” asked Avery after a few seconds passed. Both of them turned towards him in perfect synchronisation.

“Where did that come from?” questioned Bellatrix, her voice rising a pitch.

“You know what our families are like,” Avery answered.

“Please don’t remind me,” groaned Bellatrix, turning back towards her plate.

“Yes, calm down, you’re a long way off there,” Rodolphus added, subtly looking over at Bellatrix and reading her face.

“I was only messing,” Avery stated, seeming surprised with the response he got. Rodolphus nodded, but subtly rolled his eyes. Trust Avery to be so tactless as to make a joke about her major sore point, he thought.

“But what are you guys?” asked Wilkes. Admittedly, they hadn’t been exactly forthcoming in giving details on how their relationship had changed, nor did they encourage conversation about it, so it would be easy to see how their friends could be confused as to where they were at.

“Friends,” Stated Bellatrix calmly.

“With benefits,” added Rodolphus.

“We haven’t suddenly changed and gone all soppy and romantic,” explained Bellatrix, grimacing comically as she spoke. “That’s disgusting.”

“Nothing much has changed between us at all,” continued Rodolphus, looking at Bellatrix out of the corner of his eye.

“So we still have to listen to you bicker with each other all day?” asked Avery.

“Yes,” Rodolphus answered. “As if that was going to change.” They looked at each other and smiled.

“So not only do we have that but we now have to watch you snog each other too?” Wilkes asked this time. Bellatrix bit her lip as she tried not to laugh.

“Yes,” she answered, smiling as they all pulled faces.

“Thanks,” Avery grumbled sarcastically.

“At least now we won’t have to talk about banging their heads together,” Evan interjected after being largely quiet.

“Excuse me?” asked Bellatrix. She knew Evan had talked to Rodolphus specifically about his feelings. She had no idea that the entire group has been discussing her without her knowledge. The thought made her somewhat angry.

“Well it was really obvious you both fancied each other, we’re just surprised it took you that long to figure it out,” explained Wilkes, making eye contact with Bellatrix a little too much as he noticed the displeased look on her face.

“I mean, neither of you are thick,” added Avery.

“Oh, I just remembered,” Wilkes interrupted excitedly. “There was a book we found in the library’s restricted section that you need to look at,”

“What kind of stuff did it have in it?” asked Bellatrix, intrigued.

“Much better stuff than the boring shit we’re given for our OWL’s,” Macnair stated, grinning widely. This new tradition of theirs had started over last two weeks, after Bellatrix found a book on dark magic in the restricted section of the library and passed it around the group. She, Rodolphus and Avery were getting bored of OWL material, and Evan and Wilkes were always complaining about studying for NEWTs, so they began reading them in the library together under the guise of studying. Macnair had since been roped in too.

“And better than that book we found last time,” added Wilkes, looking delightfully satisfied with his find.

“Dark stuff?” asked Bellatrix. He nodded.

“Sounds interesting,” she replied, her lips curling into a wolfish smile.

“When can you show us this?” asked Rodolphus.

“We can go when you’re done eating,” answered Wilkes.

“Nice one,” he replied, and the pair of them continued eating so the group could leave.

The little reading club they’d formed felt like such a small act of rebellion that it was almost nothing, the thrill of learning what they were forbade to by the teachers a small joy. But the stories starting to emerge in the Daily Prophet made it more exciting, as while nothing had changed inside Hogwarts, outside it felt like everything was starting to.


	13. Formalities

Cygnus and Druella Black’s house hummed with the sounds of classical music and conversation. Their party, held in honour of their eldest daughters graduation from Hogwarts with Outstanding’s and Exceeds Expectations in all of her NEWTs. Almost everybody they knew were there, some celebrating their own children’s success alongside the Blacks. The party’s guest of honor, however, was sat in the back room with her sister while the adults mingled around them. They were squashed together on a small couch, so tightly compact that they were sitting on each other’s skirts.

“I hope they don’t do this for me when I graduate,” mused Andromeda, her head resting on her sister’s shoulder.

“You know they will,” replied Bellatrix, blunt but soft. “Since when have they ever paid more consideration to what we want over what makes them look good.”

“True,” sighed Andromeda, watching the people move across the room in front of her. Bellatrix knew her sister was the odd one out of the three. Andromeda was introverted and preferred to slip into the background, so she never enjoyed the social gatherings that their parents held or took them too. Bellatrix had often been the one to rescue her, taking her off to explore whoever’s house they were at or up to their room.

“I mean,” began Bellatrix, turning her head just enough that she was facing her sister, but not enough that her sisters bounty of curls landed in her mouth. They had the same untameable mop of hair, only Andromeda’s was a shade or two lighter. “Do you really think that I wanted them to do this?”

“Yes,” answered Andromeda, giggling. “You love being the centre of attention and you know it.”

“But it’s not even about me,” Bellatrix half argued. “It’s about making them look good. If it were entirely about me then you’re absolutely right.” They both laughed, leaning into each other further.

“Where do you think Cissy is?” asked Andromeda.

“Who knows?” Bellatrix replied. “Probably performing tricks for mother and father’s friends.” Andromeda laughed so hard she snorted.

“Don’t let mother hear you do that,” Bellatrix playfully chided, giggling slightly herself. While she loved her sisters equally, Bellatrix had always felt closer to Andromeda. Primarily because she was closer in age to Andromeda than she was to Narcissa, but also because Narcissa was the golden child of the three.

In their parent’s eyes, Bellatrix was too headstrong and Andromeda was too quiet, so they both got in trouble frequently. Going to Hogwarts had helped Bellatrix, as she’d found her people, but Andromeda did not. Even at school, she was always by herself, preferring her own company over her dorm mates. Bellatrix didn’t even know if she considered any of them friends. She hadn’t been overly keen on her dorm mates either, she tolerated Marianne Flint most of the time, but the others she didn’t like at all. She understood Andromeda, so she stuck with her to make sure she was less alone.

“Mother isn’t here is she,” Andromeda replied confidently, and then started comically snorting, sending both of them into fits of laughter.

Bellatrix stopped laughing the second she noticed their father walk into the room, nudging Andromeda in the ribs so she would notice too. The pair of them sat upright in unison, no longer leaning comfortably on each other.

“He always has to ruin the fun, doesn’t he,” whispered Bellatrix when their father wasn’t looking.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t ruin yours even more,” added Andromeda, which made Bellatrix scrunch her face in confusion, until she looked over and saw Rodolphus talking to their father.

“It won’t be about anything serious,” she told her sister. “Probably about starting his job at the Ministry.”

“Boring,” said Andromeda. Bellatrix agreed.

The two of them sat together commenting on the guests for a while, making fun of their clothes and the way they held their glasses. Bellatrix had missed this, time where it was just her and Andie, none of her friends around or exams too important to neglect studying for, in Andromeda’s eyes, at least. She knew it was probably going to be weird for her now that she was the oldest Black there.

Bellatrix was pulled from her thoughts by Andromeda nudging her in the side. She looked up, and saw Rodolphus striding over to them. Andromeda shot her a smile just before he stopped in front of them.

“Can we talk in private?” he asked, causing Andromeda’s curious eyes to widen even more as her grin grew. Bellatrix wanted to tell her sister’s face to shut up, and remind it that it was sixteen and not nine.

“Sure,” she answered, letting him take her hand as she rose and guide her out of the room. She suggested her father’s library, as it was kept locked and she had only been given the spell to unlock it after graduating. Once they were inside, Bellatrix threw herself in her favourite chair, the one that she’d spent most of her days sat in since finishing school. Rodolphus stood, slowly walking around the room as he examined the books displayed.

“So what did you want to talk about?” she asked, watching him pace the length of the room and wondering why he hadn’t sat down.

“I’ve been speaking with your father,” he began, taking a glass weight off one of the small tables and passing it around in his hands.

“I saw,” replied Bellatrix.

“He wanted me to have this conversation with you out there,” Rodolphus continued, moving closer to the chair Bellatrix was sat in. “But I knew that you wouldn’t want that so I decided it was best to do this somewhere private.”

“Do what?” she asked, unease starting to settle in her chest at his uncharacteristic movement and tone.

“We knew this day was coming,” he started, taking a sharp inhalation of breath before speaking. Bellatrix felt her heartbeat start increasing. “As soon as we got into this, and even before. It’s not exactly what we wanted but we knew it had to happen. So I spoke with your father earlier in the week, and mine, and I decided that it was time to give you this.”

Bellatrix watched as he pulled a small leather box out of the pocket of his dress robes. She bit her lip, unsure whether it was out of surprise or anticipation or a mixture of that and more. Warmth spread in her chest at the fact he’d considered her enough to take her somewhere private to do this, so they could be them and do it their way, rather than in the masks they had to wear in the society they had grown up in. She appreciated how easy he’d made this for her.

“I’m not bending down, because I think you’ll hex me,” joked Rodolphus, causing her to laugh as she had been with her sister in the lounge. A pure, genuine, unfiltered laugh. She’d barely even noticed him open the box. “But will you make this societally dictated engagement official?”

“Just give me the ring you idiot,” she sighed, shaking her head as he removed the ring from its box and slipped it on her finger. She examined it properly. It was a thick band of sliver with a black diamond sat neatly in the middle, the lower half of the band turning into a point towards her knuckle. Bellatrix had never cared much for jewellery, but she had to admit it was beautiful, and it suited her perfectly.

“Well I guess we should go and tell everyone then,” said Rodolphus, almost sheepishly as he broke the silence. Bellatrix rose, before cupping his face with her left hand and kissing him.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. And he knew exactly what that meant. Bellatrix almost only ever kissed him out of lust, and never out of affection, but having to do the one thing she really didn’t want to, she was grateful that he’d made all of it easier on her by letting her be herself, letting her hate the idea of getting married but knowing she had to do it anyway. This was also the first time he’d heard her give a genuine thanks, so he knew he’d treasure this moment outside of the fact he’d just proposed to the woman he loved, because it was the rarest side of her he was ever going to see.

Rodolphus didn’t say anything to her after that, he merely nodded and took her hand, ready to lead her outside to announce the news to her family. As they left the library, he felt the masks slip over them both, their genuine selves become hidden by the public faces they were about to put on for their guests. He was eternally thankful for that swift, truthful moment while it lasted, as he knew it was about to become overshadowed by load and performative formalities.


	14. Excessive planning

Bellatrix lay across her bed on her stomach, her attention on the latest book she’d pilfered from her father’s private library. It was approaching midnight and her room was lit only by candlelight, dozens of them blinking from every corner of the room. She’d been reading at night more often than she had as a child, simply because her mind wanted a break from all the wedding talk she had been subjected to every day for the past three months.

Everything she’d imagined about how obnoxiously awful wedding planning was going to be, it was actually worse. She and Rodolphus were basically dragged around place after place while their mothers tried to force their own preferences into the decision making. She’d also had no idea exactly how much actual planning went into planning a wedding. The only joy she’d managed to find in any of it were the quiet wisecracks she and Rodolphus shared whenever their mothers weren’t in the room, or were too busy arguing over flower arrangements.

In the dead of night was the only time she got any relief. If it wasn’t her mother jostling her around all day and bombarding her with decisions to make and things to look at, then it was her father and sisters asking questions the moment everyone was home. She was grateful they’d let her have the entire fourth floor of the house to herself when she became a fifth year. That privacy had often become her best companion.

The house was similar to her Father’s family home where she had spent the first four years of her life. Tall, hidden from the view of muggles despite being at the centre of an old London street. It had been in her mother’s family, who had made their money through property, and fortunately they threw some tenants out for harbouring blood traitors just around the time Bellatrix’s father decided it was time for the family to move out of 12 Grimmauld Place.

She glanced up at the window, not even able to make out the rooftops of the houses on the opposite side of the street. The clock on the wall wasn’t visible in the candlelight, but she knew it was almost time. She closed her book, walking over to the dresser drawers opposite her bed and placing it on top of them. A knocking on her bedroom window then caught her attention. She smiled, walking over quickly to open it.

“Evening,” said Rodolphus playfully as he hovered on his broom just outside her window. Bellatrix watched him duck down as he flew through the window, dismounting clumsily as he planted his feet on the wooden floor.

“Shh,” hissed Bellatrix, leaning over to close the window. “You might wake the others.”

“I haven’t so far,” Rodolphus reassured her. “Don’t worry.”

“Put that down,” she ordered.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied with a smirk, resting the broom against the wall.

This little routine of theirs started the summer after fifth year, when they found out how physically frustrating being apart from each other for weeks on end was. As far as they knew, neither of their parents had noticed a thing. He was more frequently the one to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night, despite the fact that he had a fireplace in his bedroom so Bellatrix could floo there at will. But she had no fireplace on her floor of the house, so sneaking to his that way was riskier. However, back then it was a weekly occurrence, now it was becoming almost daily.

“Hi,” said Rodolphus, biting his lip as he looked down at Bellatrix in her silk night robe.

“You took your time,” she teased, her voice low and quiet.

“Well flying does take time you know,” he replied. She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, stepping past him to grab her wand from her bedside table.

“Thank Merlin you told me,” she said sarcastically, holding her wand and casting a nonverbal silencing charm around the room. “Otherwise I never would have guessed.”

Rodolphus made a face and mimicked her words, laughing when he caught her shooting him a thoroughly unimpressed look.

“That’s quite enough of that,” she stated, slowly making her way back towards him until she was stood barely an inch away. “It doesn’t matter how long you took to get here, you’re here now.” She pulled on the string of her night robe undone and letting it fall to the floor, revealing nothing underneath.

“I am,” Rodolphus practically growled, biting his lip as he smiled and looked her up and down before moving in to kiss her. She kissed him back, matching him in roughness as she undid the clasps of his robe and yanked it to the floor, before doing the same to his shirt and pulling him onto her bed.

Afterwards, she lay with her head on his shoulder, the weight of her bed covers hot against her body as she thought once more about how exhausting the day had been. She could now feel the tiredness whispering for her to close her eyes, her brain begging to shut down for a while. She sighed.

“Today was so awful, wasn’t it,” she said quietly, conscious of the fact that the silencing charm she’d cast would have now worn off.

“It was,” Rodolphus replied, shifting the arm he had tucked under his head to make it more comfortable. “I’ll be delighted if I never have to see another table arrangement for as long as I live.” Bellatrix let out a silent laugh.

“I wish that we didn’t have to do this,” she sighed, pushing her hair over her shoulder so it was no longer pressing against her face. “That we could do what we wanted with our lives.” Rodolphus responded by squeezing her shoulder.

“But alas, this is the life we were given,” he replied, trailing his hand down her back.

“True,” she said quietly, shifting away from him slightly so she could look at him. “And it’s not like I don’t understand how important our traditions are.” She knew how important it was to keep their family line pure, how special they were by right of being born. “They just aren’t what I would choose for myself.”

“I agree,” Rodolphus responded. He’d never had much of an opinion of his parents’ expectations of them. He knew he had to fill them, and he didn’t hate the idea of doing his duty to their family line, but he was never as vehemently opposed to the whole idea as Bellatrix was. “Being a housewife really wouldn’t suit you.”

“And you might be the only person who actually understands that,” she sighed, offering him a small smile. Rodolphus felt his insides warm as he looked at her smile, the knowledge of how rare this vulnerable smile of hers was. He felt completely honoured to see it, to be sharing the rest of his life with her despite how much she hated the idea of marriage.

“Right,” she said, patting his torso twice. “It’s probably time you left.”

“Trying to get rid of me already?” he teased.

“I’m tired,” she whined. “It’s almost a shame you can’t stay.”

“Almost?” he raised his eyebrows at her.

“I don’t like sharing,” she stated.

“I don’t see you complaining right now,” he responded. She smacked his chest.

“Not the point,” she argued. “I like my space when I sleep, and you don’t want your parents to find your bed empty. Go.”

“Fine,” he replied dramatically, motioning for her to release his arm before he got out of bed. “It is late anyway.”

 She watched him pick his clothes up off the floor and put them on, sitting up when he slid the window open and prepared to mount his broom.

“Night Bells,” he said quietly.

“Night Rod,” she replied.

“See you later for more enthralling wedding planning,” he added sarcastically. Bellatrix laughed.

“Can’t wait,” she replied.

Bellatrix watched Rodolphus smile warmly at her as he climbed on the lip of her bedroom window and mounted his broom, flying off into the night. She was still smiling as she walked over to the window with the covers wrapped around her and closed it, the looming reality of tomorrows excessive planning temporarily forgotten.


	15. A union great

The grand dining room of the Lestrange’s manor was silent, the many guests sat around the dining table, which had been magically extended into a U shape for the occasion, focused on the point at the very centre of the arrangement. Rodolphus Lestrange stood out of his chair, a wine glass in his hand, delivering a speech to his audience.

“So, everyone,” he continued through his speech, pausing to take a sip of his drink. “After all of that, which I’m sure a few of you guests bore witness to.”

“Don’t I know it,” hollered Avery before Rodolphus could continue. A few more people made cheering noises.

“Yes, thanks for interrupting me mate,” Rodolphus replied, glancing over to the section of the table arrangement where his friends from school were sat. He flashed them a look of feigned annoyance and gave Avery a sarcastic thumbs up before continuing. Avery winked back in response.

“As I was saying. After all of that, we’re here,” he looked down at Bellatrix sat beside him, smiling as she met his gaze. “And I can honestly say that I am proud to call the woman next to me my wife.”

The guests burst into roaring applause as Rodolphus sat down, a beaming smile plastered across his face. Bellatrix rolled her eyes as they met his, amused by the predictability of his behaviour. He’d loved the attention they’d been receiving all day, lapping it up when he was asked to give a speech. They’d been sat there watching him talk for half an hour. He winked back at her, the guests still clapping.

“If they ask me to give a speech too, I’m going to kill you when they all go home,” she whispered in his ear just as his father raised his glass for a toast.

“To the happy couple,” said Mr Lestrange, the whole room following suit before everyone took a sip from their glasses. Bellatrix looked around the table, at her family on her left, at all the guests on the other side of the gigantic table that filled the dining room of her new home. She’d done it. It was almost over, and had been less awful and draining than she had anticipated. She was married.

_Bellatrix sat in one of the Lestrange manor guest bedrooms, her sisters surrounding her. Narcissa was gently applying make up to her face while Andromeda was pinning her unruly hair in place. It was a wizarding custom, especially in upper pureblood society, to get married on the groom’s property if it had the space to accommodate, so they were getting ready upstairs while everyone else arrived outside. Luckily it was the height of summer, so the weather permitted an outside wedding._

_“Almost done Bella,” said Andromeda as she worked in the last of the decorated clips that were keeping her sisters hair in place._

_“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” squealed Narcissa as she dabbed at Bellatrix’s face with a thick brush. Really Cissy, thought Bellatrix sarcastically, it’s been shoved down all of our throats since before we could talk. “Our sister is getting married.”_

_“Well she will if you hurry up with that make up Cissy,” responded Andromeda, letting go of Bellatrix’s hair. “How much more do you have to put on?”_

_“Not much,” Narcissa whined._

_“It will be your turn soon enough Cissy,” said Bellatrix, looking up at her fifteen year old sister and remembering that it was around her age that their parents started to pester her about finding a match. She touched her hand. “Just pass your OWLs first, okay.”_

_“Promise,” Narcissa replied, finally setting down the makeup brush._

_“Are you ready to see?” she asked, barely containing her excitement._

_“Okay,” Bellatrix answered. Narcissa and Andromeda stepped away from the dresser, letting Bellatrix see herself in the mirror._

_She saw her sisters huddling together behind her and trying not to squeal, and she wondered if she was supposed to feel different. She just looked like herself, albeit with her porcelain features much more defined. She didn’t look or feel different at all. Although she had to admit, the half up half down style that Andromeda had wrestled her hair into did look spectacular._

_“What do you think?” Narcissa asked excitedly._

_“Beautiful,” she replied, taking comfort in knowing that even they wouldn’t be able to see she was being disingenuous. She rose from her seat to face the two of them. “You two look beautiful as well.”_

_They did, that much was truthful. Bellatrix almost felt strange looking at her two younger sisters blossoming into adult women. Andromeda was eighteen in a few months, she would be in her final year of Hogwarts, Narcissa not far behind. They both wore stunningly simple dresses in the same shade of emerald green, Narcissa’s hair flowing in perfect waves whereas Andromeda’s curls were pinned delicately on top of her head._

_“Now remember,” began Bellatrix, taking both of her sister’s by the hand. “Just because I’m going to be married and no longer live at home, that doesn’t mean I’m no longer your sister. Write to me, come and visit me in the holidays whenever you want. I don’t want anything to change between us.”_

_“It won’t,” Andromeda reassured her._

_“Never,” added Narcissa. Bellatrix pulled both of them in for a hug._

_“Be careful,” squeaked Narcissa. “Don’t ruin my masterpiece.”_

_They laughed, but it was soon interrupted by their father knocking on the door. It was time._

_“We’re ready,” called Andromeda as their father entered the room._

_Bellatrix looked at herself in the mirror one last time, at the makeup on her face and the white lace dress that felt out of place on her. She’d had to fight her mother to get something more understated, and this was the dress they had compromised on. It was short sleeved and lace with a scoop neck, the skirt falling to her feet in a straight line. Emeralds were worked into the lace and framed the hem. And while to Bellatrix it was merely just a dress, she’d at least grown to like it. She smiled at her father, a fake smile that nobody would be able to see through, before sucking in a breath and making her way over to him. It was time to get this over with._

“Now I just want to thank you all for coming once more,” began Rodolphus as soon as the clinking of glasses and muttering of cheers had died down. Bellatrix looked at him, wondering what he was up to. He had a look on her face that told her he was planning something.

“But now,” he continued, pushing his chair back and rising. Bellatrix met his eyes, narrowing hers in frustration, and in hope that he might let her in on his plan sometime soon. As soon as she looked he offered his hand to her, motioning for her to stand up and join him. She did it, increasingly confused as to what was happening. “I would like you to join me and my wife in the ballroom to watch our first dance.”

In that moment, she wanted to hit him. She wanted to get through this day with as little attention on her as possible, and that was a rare feeling for her. If people paid attention, they might see how little she wanted this, and the idea of that made her skin crawl. It almost made her feel weak, that she’d surrendered control and did what everyone expected of her.

He led her around the outside of the table by the hand, towards the open entrance to the ballroom. Once they were out of earshot of the now applauding guests, she matched his pace.

“Would it be so terrible if I slapped you on your wedding day,” she said, making sure he knew that she wasn’t joking completely.

“You can slap me all you want when the guests leave,” he replied playfully, smirking at her. She rolled her eyes.

“You could have at least told me what you were doing,” she hissed, lowering her voice now that the guests had started following them in.

“Now where’s the fun it that?” he responded with a wink, stopping in the middle of the ballroom floor and signalling for the band to start playing. Bellatrix shook her head, remembering that it was this playful charm that had drawn her to him in the first place, even though she wanted to hex him for it right now.

They got into position, Rodolphus placing the hand Bellatrix wasn’t holding on her waist, raising their joined hands. She placed her free hand on his shoulder, already feeling discomfort at all the eyes on them start spreading through her chest.

They began to sway slowly in time with the music, rotating gracefully as the guests watched in silence. Bellatrix inched closer to Rodolphus, hoping that his broad shoulders would block the guests from view.

“Now how do I make you look like you’re actually enjoying yourself?” he muttered into her ear as they danced.

“I don’t know,” she replied, her voice barely audible over the music.

“I’ve got it,” he said, nudging her focus towards the guests, as he leaned towards her ear. “Your aunt Walburga’s outfit looks like she decided to come as a Cornish Pixie.” Bellatrix found her aunt and uncle in the crowd, the stark blue of her dress robes unmistakable. Bellatrix began to laugh, resting her head on Rodolphus’s shoulder.

“I think the funniest part is,” she began, still resting her head on his shoulder, her lips just below his ear. “They all probably think you just said something terribly romantic.”

Rodolphus didn’t say anything, he just hummed in agreement, enjoying the feeling of dancing with his wife. He’d thoroughly enjoyed the whole day, struggling to comprehend that he’d just married the woman he’d been in love with since he was fifteen. He’d never be able to tell how much this day had meant to him, so he let her believe that his high spirits were just a result of his natural arrogance.

He knew deep down that she would enjoy being married to him, regardless of whether she loved him as much as he loved her, if she even did at all. That was enough for him. He would do everything he could to make being married nothing like what she witnessed growing up, like everything she had wanted to avoid in her life. He could manipulate people well, keep up an act, so she would never suspect that he didn’t feel the same way she did about the entire situation. He often wondered if she was so preoccupied with her own manipulation skills that she forgot he was good at it too.

His breath had genuinely stopped as she’d walked down the aisle in the tent on the grounds. His heart in his mouth as they’d exchanged vows and rings. He couldn’t have asked for a better day or a better person to be married to. He’d married his best friend, and hadn’t been able to picture anything else, despite knowing how she felt about marriage and relationships. Rodolphus found his parents in the crowd of guests. The only way this day could have been better is if his brother Rabastan had been here.

“He would have been here if he could be,” Rodolphus heard Bellatrix say, the tickle of her breath on his neck and the vibration from her throat, bringing him out of his thoughts. She’d noticed him looking.

“I know,” he said quietly, meeting his wife’s eyes and being unable to stop himself from smiling. She smiled back, just as her father tapped him on the shoulder.

“May I cut in?” he asked, motioning to Bellatrix.

“Of course you can Sir,” Rodolphus replied, handing Bellatrix over to her father before walking up to his new mother-in-law and asking her to dance.

Bellatrix watched her husband dance with her mother as her father spun her around the dance floor. Other people were getting up now too and the atmosphere buzzed with energy. She didn’t have much longer to go until the day was over, and then she could put all of it behind her and get back to being herself and not Bellatrix the bride.

She had to admit that the day hadn’t been awful, it hadn’t felt spectacular by any means, and at points she had almost felt embarrassed, but it hadn’t been awful. She also knew that she’d made the right choice, and that married life wasn’t going to be awful either. She’d married her best friend, the only person beside her sisters who came close to knowing her truly, fully. She was now Bellatrix Lestrange, and she was content with that.


	16. The honeymoon period

The mid-morning sun shone through the tall narrow windows, streaming across the carpeted floor in perfectly aligned beams, giving the room a warm glow that Bellatrix couldn’t help but enjoy as she exited the walk-in wardrobe connected to the master suite of the Lestrange Chateau. Judging by the cloudless sky displayed through the windows it was going to be a very hot day, thought Bellatrix, now doubly satisfied with the light, airy robes she had selected to wear. She took one final glance at the spectacular view of the Chateau’s grounds from the bedroom window before leaving the room to make her way downstairs for breakfast, where she knew Rodolphus was waiting.

Lestrange Chateau was a spectacular building, and Bellatrix had been immediately impressed when they arrived there for their honeymoon four days ago. Hidden in the middle of the French countryside, it had an expanse of grounds complete with orchards and a large, elegant fountain at the centre of the front entrance. The building itself was large and symmetrical, and Bellatrix realised rather quickly that the Lestrange’s mansion back in England was definitely styled after this building, as Rodolphus had explained that his family had their British mansion built in 1865 when the family relocated. The chateau had mostly stood empty since the passing of Rodolphus’ great grandfather several years ago, but the family spent Christmases and part of summer here. For these two weeks, however, Bellatrix and Rodolphus had the Chateau to themselves.

“There you are,” called Rodolphus cheerily once Bellatrix had entered the dining room. He was seated at the far end of the room in a set of grey robes, with an intricately decorated teacup sitting in his hand. “I was beginning to wonder what you were doing.”

“Surely it didn’t take me that long to get dressed,” she replied as she walked towards him, surveying the display of pastries, fruit, cheeses and sliced meats on the table. Rodolphus laughed and offered her some tea.

“So, what do you have planned for me today?” asked Bellatrix, flashing Rodolphus a sultry smile before taking a sip of her tea. In the few days since they had arrived in France, Rodolphus had been telling, and showing Bellatrix the country’s rich wizarding history. They had been out every day to a different magical location hidden within the cities and countryside, while he talked history the entire time, and Bellatrix had certainly been enjoying herself. She liked the freedom that they had, they could do whatever they wanted, without their interfering families butting into their lives. A small part of her wished that it could be this way for the rest of their lives, but a stronger part of her knew that wishing for it was pointless, because it was not a life they could ever have.

“You’ll have to wait and see, my dear,” answered Rodolphus, smirking before draining the rest of the tea from his cup. Rodolphus watched her eyes flash bright as she laughed and rolled them at his smirking and vagueness before helping herself to some food. These last few days had been perfect. Bellatrix had been so content to be there, with him. It was the first time in a long while that he felt like she _wanted_ to be with him rather than she _had_ him because she needed to have someone. He knew their relationship was never going to be normal, he’d known that the moment he entered it, but this was as close to normal as it was ever going to get, and Rodolphus planned on savouring every second of it.

“Oh must I,” she replied flirtatiously, taking a bite out of the croissant she’d put on her plate. “Well I should hurry up and eat this then, for I might die of suspense,” she teased. They both laughed, and soon after they finished their breakfast they left the Chateau where Rodolphus apparated them to a near empty square.

“Well,” began Bellatrix slowly, surveying the surrounding area and feeling thoroughly underwhelmed. “When you wouldn’t tell me where we were going I expected it was because you had something extravagant planned, not because if I killed you after seeing the place, nobody would find you until 1985.”

“Patience ma chéri,” Rodolphus laughed, shaking his head as she glared at him. “All will be revealed.”

“You think that being vague and cryptic is endearing,” Bellatrix replied, still shooting him a very unimpressed look. “But it’s actually rather irritating.” Rodolphus just continued grinning at her.

It wasn’t that the square wasn’t nice to look at, it was. High up and surrounded by orchards and small farms and villages, mountains looming in the distance. It was the fact that the only living thing apart from the two of them appeared to be a small plant located next to one of the buildings. It was desolate. There was a dried out fountain in the centre of the square, and it was surrounded on three sides by beige buildings that look like they’d been stood empty for decades. The ground was dusty and loose, and the only way into the square for people that weren’t apparating, was a tiny dirt road. She had no idea what they were doing here.

“Well then stop complaining about the state of the entrance and follow me,” said Rodolphus, holding out his hand for her to take.

“Entrance?” questioned Bellatrix, shaking her head but taking his hand anyway. Rodolphus led her around the side of the fountain towards the building with the plant outside. Bellatrix shook her head, completely exasperated by his vagueness.

“I told you to be patient, didn’t I?” said Rodolphus, a tone of superiority to his voice that made Bellatrix want to hex him. She still had no idea what was happening and couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t just tell her, purely for the sake of theatrics.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t ask questions,” she responded, making sure her irritation was known to him. Rodolphus let go of her hand.

“Well if you actually _were_ patient you’d realize I was about to answer your question,” he said, reaching into the pocket of his robes and pulling out his wand before aiming it at the dirty wooden door of the building they were stood in front of.

“ _Je vois ce qui est caché,_ ” he muttered, a string of white light flowing from the end of his wand and connecting with the doorknob. Bellatrix blinked at him, still unsure of what he’d done.

Rodolphus opened the door, and revealed the biggest, most vibrant market Bellatrix had seen in her entire life. What appeared to be rolling empty fields surrounding the square weren’t empty at all, and were filled with market stalls and caravans and tents that stretched as far as she could see. She was hit with the smell of garlic and spices, and her eyes couldn’t seem to pick which explosive burst of colour to focus on.

“Well,” she said slowly, trying to sound as dignified as possible after being proven wrong spectacularly. If it wasn’t for the gigantic market laid out in front of them, Bellatrix would have been angry at him. “That certainly wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“I told you,” said Rodolphus smugly. Bellatrix turned and glared at him. He just smirked.

“Après vous,” he said, motioning for her to go through the door first. She did, feeling his hand on her waist as he followed behind her.

Once they were immersed into the market, the hurricane of sights and sounds and smells became much more intense. Bellatrix wanted to know where it stopped, if it stopped, if there were markets like these all over the world. She wanted to know if there was one back home in England that she’d been missing out on.

“This is stunning,” she said quietly, her voice almost engulfed by the surrounding sounds.

“I know,” replied Rodolphus.

“It puts Diagon Alley to shame,” Bellatrix added.

“I know.”

It was a rare occasion, something being able to amaze Bellatrix this fully. This was such a beautiful and unashamed display of magic, so different to the hidden streets and villages back home. This is how the wizarding world should be, she thought, out in the open and proud to display its power. It shouldn’t be suppressed just because lesser people couldn’t handle it. Being there made her feel powerful.

“Where do we start?” she asked Rodolphus, turning to look at him. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, he’d done an excellent job with the outing arrangements.

“That’s up to you,” he answered, smiling as he watched her take in a part of the world that had grown familiar to him, recognising the look of awe on her face that had been painted on his as a child during his first visit.

She took his hand, dragging him off in the direction of a tent with robes hanging around the entrance. She felt truly happy, as she had done since they arrived in France, for the first time in a long time. Just the two of them there surrounded by magic, with no expectations from anyone, was exactly the way she wanted things.

 

 


	17. The perfect life

“Do you want some more?” Bellatrix asked Andromeda as she glanced into her sister’s coffee cup

“No thank you,” Andromeda replied, squinting at her sister through the sunlight beaming down on them. “Honestly it’s much too hot for coffee anyway.”

“Then why did you ask for it?” asked Bellatrix, confused.

“So the pair of you would stop trying to give me wine,” she responded, shooting both Bellatrix and Rodolphus a look. Bellatrix rolled her eyes.

“We do have juice, you know,” she said slowly, thinking her sister somewhat stupid for asking for something she clearly didn’t want when there were more practical options available.

“I know,” Andromeda responded, her voice a note quieter this time, almost shy, like she’d been scolded. She pursed her lips. “It was just the first thing that came to mind, that’s all.”

“Rod, tell the elf to go and get Andie some juice,” Bellatrix ordered, turning away from her sister towards Rodolphus, who was sat at the opposite side of the small iron table.

“I believe you’re missing one crucial word there Bells,” he replied as he rose out of his chair, smirking at his wife as he did.

“The word you’re looking for is now,” she said slowly, her words dripping with artificial sweetness as she tilted her head to the side. Rodolphus shook his head as he walked off the patio and into the Chateau.

“Manners, my dear,” he called behind him exaggeratedly as he disappeared into the shadows of the lounge. Bellatrix scoffed, catching Andromeda stifling a laugh out of the corner of her eye.

They had been in France now for a week, just the three of them. Bellatrix has asked that as a graduation present, she and Rodolphus take Andromeda to stay at the Chateau and explore France with them. Rodolphus had agreed. Andromeda had certainly seemed to be enjoying herself, if a little quieter than usual, especially around Bellatrix. She’d never been this closed off with her, every time she’d tried to talk deeply with Andromeda she sensed caginess. Bellatrix initially wondered if Andromeda was hiding something, but ultimately didn’t think she was devious enough.

“Did you have fun today?” asked Bellatrix, taking a sip from her glass of red wine.

“Yes,” answered Andromeda, who snapped to attention rather abruptly for someone who was staring at their coffee cup. “Yes I had a fantastic time, thank you for taking me.”

“Good,” Bellatrix said, almost softly, as she watched Andromeda subtly try and study her own hands.

Today they had taken Andromeda to a private beach along the southern coast that she and Rodolphus had discovered last year when they had visited for their honeymoon. They’d been back several times since, but this time was different. Andromeda was with them, who had never seen a beach that wasn’t dull with sea that bordered on brown. It had been a warming moment to watch, Andromeda discovering a truly beautiful beach for the first time. They had returned an hour ago and were now sat on the patio in the midst of the afternoon sun, both Bellatrix and Andromeda’s hair made messier by the salt water and humidity.

“Some nice cold juice is on its way,” announced Rodolphus as he strolled back out onto the patio.

“Good,” Bellatrix responded, eyeing him suspiciously when he didn’t get back in his seat.

“What are you up to?” she asked, raising her eyebrows at him. He grinned, before procuring a camera from the pocket of his robes.

“Come on,” he said with so much enthusiasm it almost sounded fake. “The two of you, get in.”

“Oh alright then,” Bellatrix replied, her words filled with the tone of poorly feigned protest. Andromeda stayed quiet, but pushed the coffee cup a little further away from them and leaned towards her sister, plastering as wide a smile as she could muster on her face. Bellatrix flung her arm around Andromeda’s shoulder, tossing her head back and laughing at her own theatrics as Rodolphus took the photo.

Once the photo was taken, everyone returned to normal. Rodolphus sat down and the girls pulled apart, returning their attention to whatever part of the surrounding area they had been watching. Rodolphus knew he was going to adore that photo as soon as it was printed, he knew how rare it was to capture Bellatrix in such an authentic moment.

In the year that they had been married, Rodolphus had discovered that Bellatrix was happiest when they were not at home, when they were out exploring the world. They’d been back to the Chateau several times for weekends and even full weeks, because he knew she was content when it was just the two of them there and no outside interferences. He’d promised her that he wouldn’t make being married difficult for her, and so far it felt like nothing had changed. He’d given her exactly what she wanted, knowing within himself that he could never do anything other than that.

Rodolphus drained his wine glass as the elf arrived with Andromeda’s juice, watching her pile the coffee cup onto its tray delicately. He knew Bellatrix felt like she had to protect both of her sisters, but especially Andromeda. She was softer than the two of them, not naïve like Narcissa, but soft hearted. He wondered if Bellatrix could see that trait in her as much as he could, since it was not a trait she endorsed by any means, and yet they were still so close.

“How’s the juice?” Asked Bellatrix as Andromeda sipped.

“Better than the coffee,” she replied, setting the glass back down on the table.

“Are you sure you don’t want any wine?”

“Absolutely,” Andromeda responded firmly.

“But this is quality stuff,” Rodolphus added, finally contributing to the conversation. “It was made by elves in a nearby vineyard in 1925.”

“You’re really not selling it to me,” replied Andromeda, grimacing, which caused Bellatrix to laugh loudly. Rodolphus pulled a face at her.

“She’s not like the rest of us Rod,” Bellatrix began, leaning forwards so that her elbows were resting on the table. “I sometimes wonder if mother and father simply found her in the middle of the forest.”

“Nah, she looks too much like you to not be related,” Rodolphus said, examining the striking resemblance between the two sisters.

“I guess,” responded Bellatrix, smiling warmly at Andromeda. She thought of a conversation they’d had the other night.

_“Sometimes I wish we could live out here,” Bellatrix mused aloud while just she and Andromeda sat in the lounge. “But I know it can never happen. Mother and father wouldn’t let us.”_

_“Why do you care so much what mother and father think?” asked Andromeda._

_“Because they gifted us with this privilege of a life,” Bellatrix replied, sighing slightly. “The unfortunate traditions are an inconvenience certainly, but they are out duties as members of one of the oldest and purest wizarding families in England.”_

_“But you’re always complaining about them,” reminded Andromeda, sounding confused and almost distressed._

_“Just because I believe there are much more important things in the world than manners, which is an opinion they clearly do not share,” Bellatrix began to articulate, shifting into a more upright sitting position on the couch. “It doesn’t mean that I do not appreciate the responsibilities that our family has, as much as I want to run from some of them. What we are is something I am very proud to be, and I will uphold all that comes with that.”_

_Andromeda went noticeably silent after that._

_“And besides,” Bellatrix continued. “It’s not like being married has been awful for me, Rod has been great. Our life has been perfect.”_

Bellatrix thought of how perfect their life felt in that moment, surrounded by two of the only three people she felt close to. Her parents had even become more tolerable after she had gotten married. All they had to do was pretend that they were actively trying to have children and they were left completely alone aside from monthly visits. Her life was hers again. She felt in control, her family weren’t poking their noses in, and she married someone who understood their relationship for what it was and didn’t try to make it anything more than that. At this point in time, she couldn’t have asked for anything better.


	18. The heir

Bellatrix wandered down the street of the house that she spent most of her life growing up in, stopping to lean against the lamp post that signalled where the house would appear. She stood beside it, tapping the lamp post to make the front of the house materialise alongside the rest of the identical buildings. She had hoped that her father would eventually remove the anti apparition wards that he placed on the house when she was a child, but he still had not.

Once the house appeared, she let herself in. It was best to spend as little time as possible out on the street, in case she was seen by Muggles. The family house elf greeted her at the door, before scampering off to inform her mother that she was here. While she waited, Bellatrix took a seat in the downstairs lounge.

“Good morning mother,” said Bellatrix when her mother, Druella Black, finally appeared in the doorway.

“Bella, darling,” she responded cheerfully, visibly happy at the sight of her eldest daughter. It was such an overt display of softness that it almost startled Bellatrix. She hadn’t seen that kind of behaviour from her mother since she was around eight. “What a pleasant surprise. Rodolphus said that you haven’t been well.”

“I haven’t,” Bellatrix confirmed, groaning slightly. “I think it was a stomach bug.” Her mother moved into the room, sitting down on the couch opposite her. “Today is the first day in weeks I’ve felt well enough to leave the house.”

“Oh you poor thing,” Druella exclaimed, her words sitting uncomfortably in Bellatrix’s chest. She’d been ill, she hadn’t lost a leg, and the tone of her voice was so well mannered and fine tuned that she sounded performative. Druella touched her chest, before looking over at the house elf lingering in the doorway.

“Bring us some tea,” she ordered.

“Yes ma’am,” it replied, quickly disappearing from the room.

Bellatrix sighed, almost questioning why she decided to come and see her mother anyway. She had been incredibly bored, and she was supposed to visit her parents last weekend, but hadn’t been able to keep down anything she ate.

“So where’s Andie?” she asked, noticing that her mother hadn’t mentioned that she was here.

“I’m not sure,” Druella answered, smoothing out her skirt as she crossed one leg over the other. “She said that she was meeting a school friend.”

“Ah,” nodded Bellatrix. She knew Andromeda was as desperate for her own life as she had been at her age. She had even talked about getting a job, something which was rarely heard of in the women of rich pure blooded families. Andromeda had told Bellatrix that last month when they were in France, and Bellatrix had to wonder if that was where she really was, and not with a friend from Hogwarts.

“I worry about her,” sighed Druella. Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at her mother.

“How come?”

“Well she’s just graduated Hogwarts and hasn’t even considered any of our suggestions for potential husbands,” she began to explain, her brow furrowing just slightly as the concern made itself obvious. “She’s very quiet and withdrawn. I’m concerned that we won’t be able to find her someone.”

“I’m sure it will be fine mother,” reassured Bellatrix, hoping that her mother was too wrapped up in her own problems to detect how little she cared. The moment was then interrupted as the elf arrived back with the tea. Bellatrix and her mother both took sips at the same time, Druella putting her cup delicately on the coaster afterwards, while Bellatrix fought the urge to drop hers.

“Eugh,” she gagged, covering her mouth with one hand and putting the cup swiftly down on the table with the other. “What’s in this tea? Dragons piss?”

“Language,” Druella scolded, shooting her daughter a stern look.

“Sorry mother, but it’s revolting,” she replied, trying to get the taste of it out of her mouth.

“If that blasted elf put sugar in your tea then I’ll….” Druella fumed, shaking her head in frustration.

“It’s not that mother,” interjected Bellatrix. “The whole thing tastes rancid. So has every cup of tea I’ve drank in the past two weeks. I just thought the tea at home had gone bad and the house elves had been too lazy to replace it, or my stomach bug was messing around with my taste perceptions.”

“Darling,” Druella gasped, a smile tugging at the corners of her open mouth as her eyes grew wider.

“What?” spat Bellatrix, blinking at her mother in confusion.

“This is so exciting,” her mother practically squealed. Bellatrix closed her eyes briefly.

“What is?” she asked again, starting to become irritated. She couldn’t stand people keeping things from her unnecessarily, making it obvious that they had something to say and then not being straightforward and saying it.

“I don’t think you had a stomach bug dear,” Druella answered, clasping her hands in front of her with a smile that was scarily wide plastered on her face. “I think you might be expecting.”

“What?” stammered Bellatrix, feeling her heart start pounding so hard in her chest it made her feel sick. “As in…”

“Pregnant. Yes,” Druella clarified.

“Merlin’s beard,” whispered Bellatrix, unable to close her mouth as she contemplated that that might have been the reason she’d been ill all along. It definitely made sense. Why had nobody else caught it from her, and why it had been going on for over two weeks now?

“We have to find out for certain,” declared Druella, rising quickly from the sofa. Bellatrix had zoned out so far that her mother’s sudden movements startled her back into alertness. “We can go down to Diagon alley and pick up a tonic.”

“Okay,” she agreed feebly, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that it might be true.

They Floo’d to Diagon Alley, Bellatrix barely realising she was there until someone almost bumped into her as they headed out into the main street. It felt like her mother was just hurtling her around while she operated on autopilot, unable to process the idea that she might be pregnant.

She knew they were going to have to have children, it was another duty of being born into a pureblood family, one of the sacred twenty eight pure blooded families. She knew she would be expected to continue her family’s bloodline, but she had hoped she would be able to live her life how she wanted it for a while before that even happened.

On the way to the shop, Bellatrix couldn’t even remember the name of it, something caught her eye. She saw Andromeda coming out of the tea shop and glancing around, like a frightened rabbit searching for predators. It wasn’t much longer before their mother spotted her, and began heading over to her, leading Bellatrix by the shoulders.

“Andie, darling,” exclaimed Druella as they stopped in front of her. Andromeda looked noticeably startled.

“Mother?” she gasped, hoping it sounded like a pleasant kind of surprised, but Bellatrix saw through it. She suspected Andromeda had been trying to find work. “Bella? What are you doing here?”

“Were here to pick up a tonic darling,” Druella told her immediately, brimming with excitement. “You might soon be an aunt.”

“What?” gasped Andromeda, turning from her mother to her sister. “Is this true?”

“It might be,” Bellatrix answered, feeling anger start to temporarily replace the disorientation she’d been feeling since they left the house. Had her mother really needed to blurt it out in the middle of the street. She hadn’t even wasted any time in telling Andromeda, she’d just come right out with it, in Diagon Alley, without a hint of the coyness which she usually valued so much.

“Would you like to come with us?” Druella asked. Andromeda shifted where she stood, and Bellatrix had a feeling she was slipping something into her robe pocket.

“Yes,” Andromeda replied, folding her arms over her chest. “I’ve just left my friend so I’m free now.”

“Wonderful,” exclaimed Druella, before leading them both towards the shops.

“So you just drink it?” asked Andromeda as she sat on the lip of the bath in the upstairs bathroom. Bellatrix’s old bedroom had since become hers, which meant that her parents had gifted her with the space of the entire top floor of the house. The irony that Bellatrix was about to take a pregnancy tonic in the very same bathroom she used to secretly brew contraceptive tonic in was not lost on her. She almost wanted to laugh.

“I would assume so, yes,” Bellatrix answered curtly. She had to use anger to cover the fear that swam like an undercurrent through her insides.

“And how do you know?” asked Andromeda after a few moments of silence.

“According to the bottle, I’ll exhale blue smoke if it’s positive,” Bellatrix recited, holding the bottle above her as she squinted at the instructions on it. “Seems a strange way to test for pregnancy.”

“Well go on then,” urged Andromeda, her excitement finally showing. “Do it.”

“Alright,” responded Bellatrix, knowing that she had to get it over with sooner or later. She drained the contents of the bottle, trying not to gag as it slid down her throat. It was thick and sour, and she was trying to avoid tasting it, but couldn’t.

“It tastes foul,” Bellatrix grimaced as she put the empty bottle in the sink. “You would think, given pregnant women’s tendency to constantly vomit, that they would have made the tonic taste a little less repulsive.” She sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. “Whoever created this clearly had no common sense.”

“Do you feel any different?” asked Andromeda.

“Apart from feeling more nauseas that I did a minute ago, no,” Bellatrix grumbled, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly as the heavy weight of the potion in her stomach started to worsen.

“Bella, look,” blurted Andromeda. Her eyes shot open, revealing blue smoke swirling in the air in front of them.“It’s positive.”

“So it is,” Bellatrix agreed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We have to go and tell mother,” said Andromeda as she stood, excitement radiating from her.

“You go, I’ll be out in a minute,” replied Bellatrix, watching Andromeda as she stopped in the bathroom doorway.

“Of course,” she said quietly. Bellatrix noticed Andromeda look swiftly to the floor, her face falling for a split second before she met her sister’s gaze again. “Congratulations Bella.”

“Thank you,” said Bellatrix, smiling as much as she could muster before Andromeda left. As soon as she was gone Bellatrix shut the door.

“Shit,” she whispered, dropping her head into her hands.

Bellatrix sat on the tan leather couch that took up a significant portion of space in the Lestrange’s library. She hadn’t moved from there since she got back from her parents house hours ago, slouched down and staring into space as she let the day’s developments sink in. She was pregnant. In under a year’s time, she and Rodolphus would be parents. There was so much she’d wanted to do first, so much freedom to take advantage of, and not to mention the fact that she was nowhere near ready to become a mother. Well, she thought, the one wall that wasn’t covered in bookshelves starting to pulsate the longer she focused on it, I guess I’ll have to get ready. The sound of the library door opening threw her back into reality.

“Hey,” she said quietly, knowing it was Rodolphus without even having to look.

“Hi,” he replied, striding over to the couch and standing behind it. He placed his hand on Bellatrix’s forehead. “Are you feeling better?”

“Not really, no,” she answered quietly, a new wave of anxiety and nausea washing over her as she realized she had to tell him.

“What’s up?” asked Rodolphus softly, immediately sitting down next to her.

“I went to meet my mother today,” Bellatrix began, trying to stop her voice from wobbling, because if her voice wobbled then that would mean admitting the fear was there and she couldn’t have that, not right now, even with him.

“You did?” Rodolphus questioned, his brow furrowing with concern. “What about your stomach bug?” Bellatrix swallowed.

“The bug isn’t a bug,” she said, spitting the words out as quickly as she could. She kept her eyes on him, determined not to lose face. She watched him blink repeatedly as he tried to figure out what she’d meant.

“What?” he asked, his face now scrunched up in confusion.

“I’m not ill,” she stated, almost angrily. She hoped he would get it then.

“I’m not following,” Rodolphus said, his voice getting louder as his confusion grew. Bellatrix closed her eyes, hot frustration boiling over in her chest.

“C’mon you’re not stupid, don’t make me say the word out loud,” she almost shouted at him, but kept her voice quiet, raspy. Understanding registered on his face immediately.

“No,” he said, his voice increasing by half a pitch. Bellatrix kept her focus locked on his rapidly widening eyes.

“Yes,” she breathed. He swallowed, before returning to being unable to close his mouth.

“You’re...” he started.

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“Shit,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair with a loud expulsion of breath. Neither of them were ready for this, and they both knew it.

“That’s what I said.”


	19. Failure

The main high street of Hogsmede village was bustling with life as Bellatrix made her way along to the side street where she had agreed to meet Andromeda for lunch. She was thankful that it was mid week so the place wouldn’t be overrun with Hogwarts students. She wasn’t in the mood to tolerate that amount of noise.

Summer had ended, and autumn was sweeping its way across the country with force. A fairly warm September had moved into a chilly October, the current wind making Bellatrix happy that she’d hardly left the house in the past few weeks. She found the alley Andromeda asked to meet her in, where she was already standing once Bellatrix arrived. She looked up from staring at the cobbles to see her.

“Hi,” said Andromeda, stepping away from the wall and walking towards her.

“You could have chosen somewhere that didn’t stink of piss you know,” huffed Bellatrix, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the stench of the alleyway.

“It’s not that bad,” Andromeda insisted, heading towards the mouth of the alley leading onto the main street. Bellatrix followed. “And besides, it’s close to work.”

“Not that bad?” Bellatrix scoffed, the sour remnants of the alley’s scent still detectable to her. It was starting to make her stomach turn. “You should try having my nose.”

“Ah, I see,” Andromeda replied, smiling widely. “So how is being pregnant?”

“Awful,” Bellatrix replied immediately. “Is the answer to your question.” The wind picked up speed, causing her to shudder. She’d tied her hair back into a thick braid, so her ears and neck were exposed. These days it was better for her to keep her hair out of her face. “Everything smells disgusting, I can’t keep my food down, and I ache.” Andromeda bit her bottom lip, as if to stifle laughter.

“The only reason I left the house was so I don’t have to spend any more time with my mother in law,” continued Bellatrix, becoming irritated just thinking about it. “Because to be quite frank, I was getting close to beating her to death with her broom.”

“I see pregnancy has done wonders for your temper,” Andromeda replied, an almost smug tone to her voice.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Bellatrix groaned, pressing her lips into a thin line. “I swear I’ve never felt so irritated in my entire life.”

“I’m sure it will pass soon,” Andromeda said softly, placing a hand on her sister’s arm.

“It better,” Bellatrix grumbled in response. “I’m telling you now, mother and father better be happy with just one of these, because I am not doing this again.” Andromeda laughed again.

“Maybe you’ll feel different once it’s here,” she responded, clearly amused by her sister’s moodiness.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” muttered Bellatrix, before a sharp pain ripped through her abdomen, causing her stop in the street, her breathing suddenly heavy.

“Are you ok?” asked Andromeda, clearly alarmed. She placed her hand on Bellatrix’s back, her face creased with worry.

“Give me a minute,” said Bellatrix through gritted teeth, breathing as clearly as she could until the pain passed. For a second she was worried she was going to vomit in the street, which she would have rather died than done. The pain started to subside eventually, so she straightened herself out. “No, okay, I’m fine.”

“What was that?” asked Andromeda, her voice tight.

“Just a pain,” Bellatrix answered, clearly dismissive of her concerns. She’d been having them on and off all morning, so they didn’t worry her. “I’ve been having them on and off.”

“Is everything…” began Andromeda

“No need to worry,” Bellatrix interjected, now almost curt rather than dismissive. “My mother in law said that it’s quite normal.”

Once the moment had passed, they proceeded towards Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop, their intended destination. Andromeda held the door open for Bellatrix as they walked in, choosing a table for two in the far corner.

“In here smells worse than out there,” moaned Bellatrix, pulling the sleeve of her robes over her face to cover her nose. With the smell of tea and cakes hitting them all at once, her stomach had flipped the second they walked through the door.

“It’s probably just a bit intense at the moment,” Andromeda attempted to reassure her, looking up from the little pink menu laid out on their table. “I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”

“I’m not,” she grumbled, still holding her sleeve to her face.

A small older woman came over to take their order. Andromeda ordered herself a cream cake and a cup of regular tea, ordering a ginger tea for Bellatrix. As they waited for it to arrive they began catching up, mostly discussing their parents until the teas and cake were brought over. Andromeda offered Bellatrix some of her cake, she refused.

“So how is working life?” asked Bellatrix as she sipped on her tea, which had managed to make the smell of the place much more bearable. Andromeda rolled her eyes.

“Well after the furore mother and father created when I told them,” she began, clearly annoyed with their response despite knowing exactly what they were going to say. In their eyes, especially her father’s, women of their status shouldn’t work “Pretty good.”

“I’m glad,” Bellatrix responded, flashing her sister a genuine smile. Her sister had surprised her. Bellatrix had often questioned if Andromeda had it in her to defy them so openly. Even she never defied them directly once she’d learned better, she carefully manipulated them to make them believe exactly what she wanted them to.

“At least they have Cissy to be the model child,” laughed Bellatrix, taking another sip of tea. The pain in her stomach started to return, but she just grit her teeth through it.

“True,” sighed Andromeda, taking a spoonful of her cake and shoving it in her mouth. After she swallowed, she continued. “Has she written to you to tell you how gutted she is that she’s missing you being pregnant.”

“No,” answered Bellatrix, trying to avoid grimacing as the pain began to spread and intensify. She sipped her tea, hoping for a distraction. “But she’ll see me at Christmas, and hopefully by then this awful bit will be over and I’ll be much better company.” She stopped, the pain increasing so much that the combination of it and the smell of the tea room started to bring her last mouthful of tea up her throat. She closed her eyes and breathed in, trying to will the sensation away.

“Bella?” Andromeda said softly, concern lacing her voice.

“You’ll have to excuse me Andie,” she said quickly, pushing back her chair. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

She sped to the small bathroom located at the back of the shop, throwing up in the closest cubicle. Afterwards, she took a deep breath, the pain in her stomach refusing to relent. As she tried to rise from the bathroom floor, another bolt of pain shot through her, knocking her back down. She tried breathing through it, leaning against the wall of the cubicle, but it continued to burn through her.

Bellatrix tried not to whimper as the pain worsened, tucking her legs together at an angle on the cold bathroom floor. She knew something must be wrong, clutching at her abdomen as she tried to find a sitting position that would ease the pain, but nothing worked. That was when she felt a hot stickiness against her legs. After a while, Bellatrix had no idea how long, she heard the door open.

“Bella?” Andromeda’s voice called out tentatively. “Bella, are you alright?”

“In here,” she hissed, closing her eyes against the white hot pain that persisted. Andromeda flung the door open, looking down at her heaped against the cubicle wall.

“What’s happened?” Andromeda gasped, her hand covering her mouth.

“I’m bleeding,” explained Bellatrix through gritted teeth.

“Oh,” exclaimed Andromeda, bending down to reach her. “Ok, hold on.” Andromeda wrapped her arms around her sister, trying to get as stable a grip as she could. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

She apparated them to St Mungo’s hospital, almost dropping Bellatrix on the floor once they arrived.

“Help!” screamed Andromeda. “Somebody help!”

“What’s wrong?” asked a healer who had rushed over as soon as she’d noticed them.

“It’s my sister,” Andromeda explained, her voice quivering as she panted. “She’s pregnant, and we were out and she started bleeding really heavily and she’s in a lot of pain.” The healer took Bellatrix from Andromeda, another one now at their side.

“Ok,” said the other healer, turning to Andromeda. “You’ve done very well, we can take it from here.”

The healers examined Bellatrix, regrettably informing her that she was experiencing a miscarriage. They gave her a potion to speed the process along, Andromeda holding her hand against the pain as it ran its course. She didn’t want them to see how much pain she was in, they couldn’t know, so she poured all of the agony into her sister’s hand, her face as expressionless as stone the entire time. After it was over, they took tissue samples and sent her to the recovery ward, sending notice to her parents and husband.

“Are you okay?” Andromeda asked quietly as they sat there in silence. They’d been in the ward an hour.

“I’m fine,” Bellatrix answered. Andromeda looked like she was about to protest, but Bellatrix couldn’t deal with words right now.

“Andie, can we please not talk about it,” she said, trying to keep her tone free of anger. She didn’t even look at her, just stared at the wall above the person in the bed opposite, wishing she were anywhere else.

“But,” protested Andromeda

“Andie,” Bellatrix snapped.

“Ok,” Andromeda surrendered, a tearful undercurrent in her voice. A few minutes of silence passed.

“Mother, Father and Rodolphus will be here soon, I’m sure,” said Andromeda, hoping that it would be reassuring.

“Andie,” Bellatrix responded, her voice completely flat. “Please, no talking.”

“Ok,” she responded timidly, returning to silence.

Bellatrix lay there watching everything happen around her, dreading the moment her parents and Rodolphus arrived. She didn’t want them to be able to see that she didn’t feel anything she was supposed to feel, that she just felt numb. Bellatrix had never really wanted children, but she knew they were another inevitability. She could never picture herself with a child, and had only just begun to when she and Rodolphus were discussing how they didn’t want to be anything like their parents. He had only just managed to make her content with the reality that they were having a child of their own.

Minutes blurred into hours as they sat there in silence, every cell in Bellatrix’s body feeling as if it was on fire. It wasn’t from pain, that had dulled ages ago, but her skin felt unnaturally tight. She felt embarrassed. That feeling only worsened when her parents and Rodolphus became visible in front of her bed.

“We got the St Mungo’s owl,” her mother cried as she stopped beside Andromeda.

“What’s happened?” asked Rodolphus as he stopped at Andromeda’s side. Bellatrix’s father silently stepped into place beside her mother, near the foot of the bed. Bellatrix steeled herself, feeling her chest tighten as she looked them all in the face.

“I lost it,” she told them, wanting to set herself alight as she watched the panicked look on her mother’s face turn to sympathy.

“Oh darling,” she sighed, her voice tight and constrained. “I’m so sorry.” Bellatrix wished she wasn’t there. She felt Andromeda’s hand slip from hers, and another hand take it.

“Bells, are you okay?” asked Rodolphus softly, concern radiating from his gaze. She nodded.

“Apart from that fact that really hurt,” she breathed, keeping her eyes focused on him. That way she could forget everyone else was there. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“I’ve been looking after her,” added Andromeda, placing her hand on Rodolphus’ shoulder.

“Well did they say what caused it?” Bellatrix’s father piped up from the end of the bed, his voice harsh and suspicious. The minuscule part of Bellatrix that didn’t want to be swallowed up by the floor into darkness disappeared at the sound of her father’s voice.

“They’re doing some tissue tests,” she told him, her voice devoid of emotion. “Said it might help them understand why.”

“Well we’re staying until we find out why this has happened,” her mother answered. Bellatrix tried not to show how much she wished they wouldn’t.

“Hello,” a voice from behind Bellatrix’s parents called out. The healer came into view as her parents moved to the side. “I have the results of the tests we conducted on your tissue samples Mrs Lestrange, and unfortunately they aren’t good.”

“What do you mean, not good?” her father demanded, turning abruptly to the healer.

“Cygnus,” her mother hissed, grabbing his arm. “Let the woman do her job.”

“Maybe it would be best if your family were to step away for a moment?” the healer suggested.

“No chance,” insisted Cygnus, his cold eyes locking onto the healer. “Anything you have to say in front of my daughter, you can say in front of me.”

“Are you ok with this?” the healer asked timidly. _No absolutely not, please make them go away,_ Bellatrix wanted to say, wanted to scream, but she knew that she couldn’t. Hearing the words sound so desperate and pleading in her head made her feel physically sick.

“Yes,” she said flatly, keeping her eyes glued on her parents, making sure they couldn’t see how much she despised them being there.

“Well, in the event of a miscarriage, especially for someone with your age and health, there are a series of tests we run to find out the cause,” the healer began.

“There is a potion available that can test for abnormal development that may cause miscarriage, and most of the time, the results show nothing overly concerning, meaning that the witch will not have any issues carrying a pregnancy to term in the future.” Bellatrix stared at the wall so hard her vision started to blur as the healer rattled off the test results, the buzz of the hospital becoming a dull background noise. She had read about this potion in a textbook at Hogwarts. A woman who had suffered multiple losses created it to find out if she would ever be able to have children. It was now used everywhere to spare witches from her experiences.

“However, your tests highlighted a less common problem with the tissue development. So we took further samples,” the healer continued, her voice switching to a more solemn tone. She paused, And Bellatrix felt as if her entire body had turned to lead, the stares of her parents fixing her in place. “I’m afraid it appears that it will be unlikely for you carry a child to term.”

“Can you treat these abnormalities?” asked her father immediately, his tone aggressive.

“Not as of yet, no,” explained the healer, wringing her hands in front of her. “But there may be possible developments in the future.” The healer turned away from Bellatrix’s parents and faced her.

“In the mean time,” she began, her tone much calmer, more clinical. “I’ll talk you through what to do next.”

“That can’t be right,” insisted Cygnus, almost shouting at the healer.

“It is Cygnus,” Druella argued, her voice breaking. “The woman knows what she’s talking about.”

It became increasingly clear to Bellatrix how her parents, especially her father, felt on the matter, and as soon as she realized the heavy numbness that had hold of her body transformed into boiling rage. In their eyes, she’d failed them. She was incapable of doing the one thing that Blacks were supposed to do, carry on the bloodline. She was a failure.

“Druella I think we need to leave,” said Cygnus, his voice cold. It made Bellatrix want to set him on fire. She’d done everything right, even when she hadn’t wanted to. She’d married, she’d accepted a life she wouldn’t have chose for herself because that was what being one of them meant, and she valued her family and status more than anything.

“I’m going to go with them,” added Andromeda, grasping her sister’s hands. Bellatrix didn’t blame her, she looked completely drained. “I’m so sorry.” Bellatrix nodded, and let her go.

When she was finally able to come home, after talks of rest and tonics from the healer, Rodolphus apparated them back. They didn’t talk about it, she didn’t want to, and he respected that.

“I’m going to bed,” she said flatly, heading for the stairs once he’d let go of her. “You can tell your parents without me.”

“Bells?” said Rodolphus, his voice hoarse and strained.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she told him again, her body feeling like a weight she was dragging behind her. “Not to them, not at all.”

“Okay,” he said quietly. She looked at him, seeing the solemn look on his face but knowing that she was in no place to talk about what had happened to anyone.

“Don’t worry about me,” she said, placing one foot on the stairs, trying to keep her voice steady as she lied. “I’m fine.”

Once she was upstairs she got herself into bed and lie there, thinking about how she wanted to sink and never stop, to erase this day from existence. She couldn’t burn the way her parents looked at her out of her brain, unable to stop feeling like they were right.


	20. Being Black

The small black patch grew and grew, creeping across the fabric of the wall like a rapidly lengthening vine until the portrait of her kind and youthful face had been completely encompassed in darkness. The jet of light flowing from Walburga Black's wand ceased and the whole room just looked, staring at the newest burn mark on the Black family tapestry. The room was silent, eerily silent, the shock of the past few hours hanging heavily in the air. Then Walburga put away her wand and everything returned to normal, as if nothing had ever happened.

The conversation began to buzz again, people began to move about the house, Cygnus Black's face had even returned back to its natural colour, rather than the fierce red it had been for the past hour. Order had once again been restored at number 12 Grimmauld place, and Bellatrix couldn't stand it. She sat slumped on the sofa, watching as they talked, studying the looks on their faces and nothing, no sign of the hurt she was feeling at that exact moment, and it made her feel weak. They all looked so calm, so collected, with the exception of a rather confused Regulus, who simply sat on the floor, trying to understand what had happened. Even Narcissa didn't seem upset, although Bellatrix knew that she probably was hurting deep down, but she didn't want it to ruin her Christmas.

However for Bellatrix it had ruined her Christmas. How could she? The whole thing felt so raw. Bellatrix was so angry, so stung by betrayal that she wanted to tear her own hair out. How? How had her own sister, one of the few people she held closer than anyone else, so easily betrayed her own family? Wondered Bellatrix, as the memory raced through her mind once more. She hated how everyone had moved on just like that and she was here, so consumed by hurt and anger that she could barely move, knowing that she could not possibly express it, especially not in front of her family, the very people who had taught her that to show emotion was weakness and that showing weakness did not play any part in being a Black.

She kept herself rooted to the sofa, allowing a quick glance over at Rodolphus who sat beside her. She could tell by the look on his face that he was dancing between lending her a comforting shoulder or leaving her alone to process what had happened, and she wasn't quite sure which one she wanted either. The one thing she did know is that she needed something to numb her, help her forget all the pain so she could move on like the rest of them had done. She decided to head back to the dining room, giving Rodolphus' leg a gentle squeeze before standing up, letting him know that she'd soon be back and that he didn't need to follow her.

Once she arrived in the dining room she found the decanter of Firewhiskey and poured herself a glass. She drained it and then another, and found the pain slowly falling away. Bellatrix stayed there until almost half of the decanter was empty, but she still felt it, the hurt, eating her inside. She took the glass and decanter from the dining room and headed off to find a quiet spot to sit in, which she found in an old armchair in one of the living rooms. The only other occupant was her drunken uncle Alphard who sat snoring in another chair on the other side of the room. It suited her just fine.

The minutes ticked by and the decanter of Firewhiskey was slowly getting emptier, but the pain was still there, trapped under the surface of the whiskey's burn. Bellatrix felt like she could melt into the armchair. Her senses were blurring, so much that she didn't even notice when Kreacher came in to dust the room, but she didn't care, she just wanted to stay there. Alphard's snoring soon became a distant hum, and she wasn't even sure of how conscious she actually was until Rodolphus came to find her.

Two big hands landed firmly on her shoulders, which she initially chose to ignore until they started to slip their way down her arms, spreading warmth to her body. She turned her head to look at the man standing over her.

"I think it's about time we went home Bells," he said, quieter than usual. Bellatrix tried to gather her thoughts. Whilst she didn't want to move from the armchair, she didn't want to stay in this house any longer, the longer she was here the longer the memory stayed in her mind, prolonging the hurt and betrayal.

"Why?" she slurred. It was all she could think to say. Rodolphus crouched down beside her, taking one of her hands in his own.

"It's dark, and I do not wish to stay here much longer," _And you need to go home,_ he thought, but didn't share that with Bellatrix. He looked at her, slouched in the arm chair, glassy eyed, and he could tell how she was feeling but he'd known that she wanted to be left alone and had granted her that wish, but now it was time for them to leave. She met his gaze, studying him the way one would if wary of a stranger. He hated seeing her like this, but he knew that she was never one to talk about how she felt, preferring to express herself through actions instead. It was one of the many things he loved about her, but in this moment he just wished that she would forget her pride and open up.

"Okay," she muttered, nodding her head slightly. Her tone was flat and emotionless but the look in her eyes was screaming _take me home_. When it came to Bellatrix hiding her emotions her eyes had always betrayed her, Rodolphus thought about that as he helped his wife to her feet. She stumbled slightly as she got out of the chair but he caught her, tucking her under his arm before apparating them back to Lestrange manor. He thought it best not to inform anyone of their departure, especially given the state Bellatrix was in, Mr. and Mrs. Black definitely would not have appreciated having to bid goodnight to an inebriated daughter.

As soon as they were back in the foyer of their own home Rodolphus sat Bellatrix down on the chaise lounge just inside of the door before calling for the family house elf.

"Have a glass of water ready in the dining room by the time I get there," he ordered, as the small creature scampered off, a high pitched "Yes sir," following it. Once again Rodolphus was helping Bellatrix to her feet. She stubbornly attempted to walk through the foyer independently, but soon found herself unsteady on her feet and almost fell over. She tried to shake Rodolphus off as he supported her but her effort was clumsy and Rodolphus bested her on physical strength even when she was sober.

"Let me help you, you can barely stand," he insisted, gripping her shoulders. It had come out harsher than he'd intended but concern laced his features. Bellatrix looked at him, and she knew that he meant well but she felt the need to prove herself.

"I'm fine," she snarled as she attempted to wriggle free of his grasp. He eventually conceded, knowing that Bellatrix was in no state to argue with, only moving in to support her when she found herself almost falling over. They eventually made it into the dining room where the house elf was waiting, standing next to the elegant, long table that consumed the space in the center of the dining room. One chair had been pulled out for Bellatrix to sit in.

"Leave," said Rodolphus, shooing the house elf away. He sat Bellatrix down and asked her to take a sip of the water. She took one, slamming the glass back down on the table so half the contents spilled all over the furnished oak.

"I don't need water," she insisted, rather harshly, before attempting to stand back up.

"Yes you do. You need to sober up," countered Rodolphus, urging her to sit back down.

"No I don't," hissed Bellatrix, glaring. Rodolphus had only ever seen that glare a handful of times, and none of those situations had ended well.

"Yes you..."

"No I don't! You don't know what I need!" she screamed, fury brimming in her eyes. Rodolphus took a step back, knowing fully that she was only going to get more upset if he continued to argue with her. She rose from her seat, tottering slightly before starting towards the entrance to the foyer.

"I'm a Black. I don't need help," she insisted, although the tone of raw emotion in her voice and the tears brimming in her eyes said otherwise. "I just need to be left alone," she said finally before leaving the room.

Rodolphus let out a loud sigh. He let her get angry because he knew she was hurting, but he couldn't help but feel useless because she was too stubborn to let him help her, she'd rather bottle it up, torturing herself over it. Stubbornness was a trait they both shared and at times like this he desperately wished they didn't. He called the house elf to clean up the mess Bellatrix had made and fetch him a glass of Firewhiskey.

Bellatrix clung to the wooden banister as she made her way up the grand staircase, tripping over her own feet as she climbed step after step. Once at the top, she staggered through the hallways until she reached the room she shared with her husband. The bed had been made and the fire was roaring, filling the room with warmth to combat the chilly December air rolling in from the balcony doors at the far end of the room.

She slammed the door behind her falling to the floor, letting the tears fall fast down her cheeks, blurring her vision. She felt like claws were gutting her. Her entire body was racked with sobs so forceful they hurt, expelling the pain with each breath. She felt so unbelievably weak, so pathetic and vulnerable, but no matter how much she tried she couldn't stop the river of tears flowing from her eyes. She wanted to be strong, to force the memory from her mind like the rest of her family had seemed to do without any effort, the fact that she couldn't made this all the more humiliating. She grabbed fistfuls of the Persian rug beneath her, screaming with anger until her throat was raw. She didn't know who she was angrier with, Andromeda or herself.

How could she be expected to just forget that she ever existed, they had been so close. They had always been the two sharing bedrooms, always been there to play with each other when Narcissa was too young. They had been so close, shared so many experiences together, good and bad. How could she do this to her, after all that they'd been through. How could she just leave them, trade them for some filth like they meant nothing?

She claimed that she'd left them for love, but Bellatrix didn't even know if love existed. She'd never felt the need for love, if it did exist. If what her parents had was love, then it was definitely something that she did not want, but she knew marriage had been unavoidable for her. She was happy with her marriage, yes, but that didn't mean that she believed in love. Love made people do crazy things, she'd always heard, but she didn't. She and Rodolphus were attracted to each other and enjoyed each other's company but they didn't go to great lengths for each other or do anything that love was supposed to make you do. Frankly, Bellatrix thought the whole concept of love was a fruitless way of maintaining hope, but why did Andromeda have to be one to fall for that? Family was what really mattered, and yet she'd betrayed that for something that may not even exist. That fact added another icy layer to the pain that flowed through her blood.

The tears kept coming, stinging her eyes and burning her face as they sped down her rosy, wet cheeks. She kept raising questions, demanding answers, but knowing that she would never get them. She was so angry at Andromeda, but she was so angry at herself. Going against everything she'd been taught about handling emotion, it had to stop, but she just couldn't find a way to make it. In that moment she hated herself, she hated Andromeda for doing this to her, but she hated herself more. She'd shown herself to be nowhere near as strong as she wanted to be, needed to be for the reputation of her family. She sacrificed her own wishes for her family, knowing it was the right thing do, and she couldn't even be what they needed her to be. Eventually the sobs turned to shaky breaths and the shaky breaths turned to quiet, drunken snores.

When Rodolphus finally came upstairs to bed, he found his wife sleeping on the floor in the middle of their bedroom, still dressed. He gently removed her jewelry, careful not to wake her, before lifting her off the floor and carrying her over to their bed. He looked down at her puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks, and it pained him to know that she wouldn't talk to him, but he let it go as he tucked her into bed, glad to have the day finally over.


	21. Depression

The following months were no better than Christmas day, and as the predictably icy weather continued to ravage the British countryside it appeared that a similar atmosphere had fallen over Lestrange manor, trapped it under a thick blanket that showed no signs of relenting, smothering them against their will. Rodolphus had explained the events of Christmas day as quietly as he could to his parents, but that didn't matter, it was only going to spread like a dragon's fire throughout wizarding society, becoming the latest gossip. The whispers on the corners of every street were always lingering, of what an unfortunate year the Black family had, lurking like a spear poised inches from the flesh of their backs. Each member handled the situation differently, from outright denial to silent grief and dread of those harsh whispers, but Bellatrix could only have been described by those around her as falling into some kind of depression.

Nobody mentioned the incident, nobody expected her to grieve, least of all herself. What made everything so painfully unbearable was the thoughts that haunted her every waking moment. Pain, anguish, hurt, things she told herself that she was much stronger than and wouldn't feel over anyone, least of all a filthy blood traitor. But that blood traitor was her _sister,_ her flesh and blood, the girl she'd watched blossom in to a woman and shared so much of her life with, a girl she'd cared for, and now she _couldn't._ Someone with which she'd shared a bond like no other, and now she didn't. Years and years of happy memories had been lost in the space of five minutes, dissolved into thin air, ceased to exist and she was expected to feel nothing, she wanted to feel nothing. The most conflicting thing, she found, is that this seemed to be happening to no one else. Nobody else felt like every time they breathed their lungs were being ripped from their chest, nobody else felt so conflicted that they felt like tearing themselves apart. She hated it, feeling every moment like she was going to explode, she felt weak, and once again she was the family disappointment, the one who couldn't just move on. But pretending that she could was also killing her.

Bellatrix became exceptionally hard to be around. Her face was fixed in a permanent scowl and her eyes were dead. Rodolphus was the first to notice but soon it became for anybody to believe the persistent lies she spun when anybody asked her if she was okay. Her insistent denial was what frustrated Rodolphus the most, not her foul temper, her withdrawal or the fact her old self seemed like it would be permanently lost, it was the fact that she just wouldn't talk. She couldn't admit what was painfully obvious, to everyone including herself. But he swore to himself that he would help her though this, no matter how badly she pushed him away, and she did, she pushed everyone away. She stopped visiting her mother on a regular basis and writing to Narcissa at Hogwarts. She'd spend days on end doing nothing but sitting in the library, Rodolphus thought she must have read its entire contents by the time January was over. Rodolphus once called her mother over for a house visit, desperately worried. On that foggy morning he practically begged her to do something, but nothing could be done, she confronted Bellatrix gently with hope to encourage her to say something, and it had almost worked, but mere talking could do nothing to repair wounded pride, and the situation only ended worse.

_"She went and ruined everything Just when I was beginning to feel like I wasn't completely useless she went and left and made everything worse!" cried Bellatrix. There was a mutual gasp. Druella's tight face began to soften. Panic flooded through Bellatrix at the realization of what she had just done, the thing she had tried so desperately to avoid. All reason was shoved as aside as she leaped to defend her pride._

_"Get out," Bellatrix growled. Druella's smile faded instantly._

_"But you finally..." She chirped, hoping for Bellatrix to relax and finally talk to her. She was met with the look she imagined a vicious animal would have if it felt it were being threatened._

_"Get out!" she spat. She was growing impatient with her mother and her refusal to understand, with everyone's refusal to understand. She could feel tears threatening to well in her eyes, she needed her mother out._

_"But..." Druella stammered, completely astonished by the entire situation. She stared at Bellatrix, worried._

_"Get out mother, get out!" she screamed frantically. Druella gasped and then fled the room, slamming the door behind her. Bellatrix fell into a heap on the sofa, struggling to stifle her sobs. She threw the book she was reading across the room and punched the sofa arm. She was furious. Furious at her mother, furious at her sister and furious at herself. It would have been better if her sister had died, it would have been easier. She had become a sniveling heap, crying over something she could not change and she felt infuriatingly frail, wishing everything could disappear. Blacks are not weak, she told herself, but it was no use, every cell in her body told her she was weak, from the pain in her chest to the streams of tears falling down her face, she was absolutely pathetic, sure in the knowledge that if anybody saw her like this she would too be disowned, for this was not the behavior of Blacks and never would be._

Rodolphus was beginning to lose hope, every night when he sat across from her at the dinner table, watching her pound glass after glass of wine. Boiling with resentment that every night she drowned herself rather than talking to him. Every time he raised it, it only made things worse, a slight comment at dinner resulted in cruelly defensive insults, slamming of crockery and a hasty exit. He felt like she was caged and no matter how many times he reached for the exit to free her, he was thrown ten feet further away. His parents somehow tolerated the frequent display of rudeness and apathy that became dining with her, they watched her choke down her food and guzzle back wine like it was air, and despite them never saying anything Rodolphus could tell they were displeased, and mildly concerned. But no matter what he tried it backfired, he was slowly becoming exhausted.

Bellatrix could tell that her behaviour was affecting those around her, but nothing could have convinced her to care. If anything she was glad she was hurting them, that way they could understand a fraction of what was happening inside her. She wished it was more, that they were the ones being asphyxiated every day by their own feelings rather than watching someone else self-destruct. She hated the way they all looked at her, her mother's kind smiles and the pitiful look in Rodolphus' eyes. _You want to help me?_ She wanted to say, to scream at them until her lungs collapsed _then take this away._

She relied on keeping herself busy to get through the days and keeping herself drunk to get through the nights. She spent every day engrossed in books when she had the energy, and other times just staring at walls, watching the rain fall though the wide mansion windows. She imagined herself as the raindrops, one day standing out in the grounds with them until they soaked her robes through. Rodolphus found her standing there, shivering with wet hair in her eyes and waterlogged robes clinging to her frame. He coaxed her inside and warmed her up, she didn't complain, but she wished he'd left her there, where the cold ate away at the pain. And each night when she picked through her food beneath the scrutinizing stares of her in laws. She'd never liked them much, Mr. Lestrange was almost never there, and his wife was the same breed as her mother, cold and compliant. She watched them silently judge as wine coursed down her throat, filling her insides with a numbing warmth, and she hated the glares because it showed what little they understood, how they had no idea that she was drowning and needed that numbness to survive.

As January faded and February began to take hold things became no less difficult, only less disappointing. Rodolphus came to expect it, that every day his wife would ignore him, speak to no one and spend the night shut away in one of the guest bedroom rather than in their shared suite. The Lestranges found more bottles of firewhiskey going missing from the liquor cabinet, but now nobody blamed the house elves, not after one of them found the broken remnants of the previous missing bottles in a far corner of the grounds. The house elves noticed a mirror in one of the guest bedrooms had been broken, it was quickly replaced and nobody asked questions when Bellatrix spent the next week in a fashionable pair of silk gloves. The silence was slowly driving Rodolphus insane. Why was nobody addressing this? He despaired over how much longer this could go on. The one day he finally cracked, when he vowed that he would no longer be complacent in letting his wife destroy herself despite insisting she was fine, he felt a piece of himself break too. This was the strongest woman he'd ever known, and that afternoon when he found her on their bedroom floor sat in a pile of feathers, the gutted shells of their pillows strewn around the room, that he would help her recover who she was if it killed him. He helped her up, and she did nothing, just stared at the fireplace where the fire raged, Rodolphus just making out the faint curls of photographs dancing amongst the flames before noticing the open book on the floor. He ran cold water over the burns on her hands while she sat there dazed, like she didn't know he was even there at all.

That was the lowest day, and after that Bellatrix swore she would never fall that far again. She channeled her pain into anger and her anger into energy, she returned to the library, acquiring knowledge at a rapid rate and rather than turning on herself and others she fuelled her inner fire with the promise of something more, taking moments of twisted joy from the whispers in the newspapers, that dark times were on their way. She started to smile again, which as far as she was aware had everyone fooled, and as February progressed and neared its end, her façade of normality seemed concrete as ever. She found comfort in fire, setting things alight and poking around the hearth. She imagined throwing her thoughts in to them, watching them turn to dust. She still could hardly stand being around her family, and often after visits to them Rodolphus would find her asleep somewhere in the mansion with an empty bottle of wine. She smiled more because they thought she was getting better, they'd stopped fretting, which meant that she harboured less hatred for them because their pandering had only made her feel worse. Now they thought she was better, but she wasn't, she still felt like her body was eating itself alive and her every spare moments were filled with reminders of her sister's betrayal and her own failure, they still tormented her. They thought she was better but she wasn't, she was just waiting.


	22. Finding a cause

Bellatrix sat on the edge of her bed staring at her hands in her lap, balanced on top of the towel wrapped around her body. Taking a bath was one of the only times she didn't feel wretched, wasn't constantly reminded of what that traitor had done or how she felt like almost as much as a failure for still holding any semblance of feeling towards her. The only time when the depths of her mind weren't chained down in miserable places with no hope of escape.

The sound of the doors closing downstairs drew her from her destructive, self-pitying thoughts. She furrowed her brow, considering how unusual it was for visitors, especially at this time of night. She cast a quick drying spell on her hair and slipped into a comfortable dark green dress, creeping down the corridor onto the main landing. The sound of stifled sobs was coming from downstairs, which only added to Bellatrix's growing confusion. Peering over the landing banister she looked down into the empty foyer and found Rodolphus and his mother sat at the foot of the staircase, staring blankly at the cold stone floor.

She made her way down the stairs, treading carefully. They both heard her. Rodolphus gave her a nod of acknowledgement, however his face was sullen and his eyes were distant. She looked on as he stood up and then helped his mother to her feet. Mrs Lestrange sniffed loudly and then dabbed her eyes with her sleeve. A small woman with neat black hair and hazel eyes, she smiled meekly at her daughter in law before chewing on her bottom lip, tears welling in her eyes.

"Rod, what has happened?" Bellatrix asked, growing slightly impatient. She did not like being confused. Rodolphus attempted a reassuring glance but looked more like he was about to kick something.

"Wait here Bells, I will tell you in a moment. Right now I need to get my mother a drink," he replied coldly before escorting his mother through to the dining area. Bellatrix sighed impatiently, being kept waiting or excluded from important knowledge made her feel like her skin was crawling. An unbearable impatience spread through her, like an itch that refused to disappear. She was almost tapping her foot by the time Rodolphus returned.

"Now can you tell me what has happened?" she demanded.

"Fine, sit down," he replied and they both sat at the foot of the stairs. She studied his face, trying to gouge any kind of knowledge on what had happened but was met with a fixed steely expression.

"Well, shortly after you went into the bath, I saw a man apparate onto the drive. I thought it odd to have visitors at this time, especially one I didn't recognize so I went and answered the door and he told me to fetch my mother," he began. Her eyes were fixed on his, prompting him to continue. He swallowed.

"The man had come to inform my mother that my father was dead. Didn't explain how, just that he was dead," he explained. There was a few moments silence.

"I...um...I'm...sorry," Bellatrix stammered, the words sounding unnatural and tasting sour on her tongue. She had not known her father in law well, and expressing any kind of sympathy had always been hard for her to stomach. Sympathy felt like ice, freezing her from the inside and sending uncomfortable shivers over her skin. There was a hollow feeling spreading in the pit of her stomach which she couldn't put a name to and it unnerved her. Mrs. Lestrange's sobs penetrated the silence from the dining room. After sending his mother upstairs to bed, Rodolphus turned to his wife.

"I don't know about you but I need a drink," he said, wandering off to grab a bottle of Firewhiskey and two glasses before the pair made their way to one of the sitting rooms on the east side of the mansion.

The room was large. An array of antique couches and chairs were gathered in the center of the room around a long coffee table. A fireplace stood at the center of the back wall and mounted lamps adorned the walls. A pair of chairs and a small table were close to the door and several cabinets lined the far wall. The entire bottom half of the walls was an old wood, whilst royal blue and dusky rose striped wallpaper decorated the top half. The wall mounted lamps were the only source of light and the room held a bluish glow. The perfect room for the mournful atmosphere.

They sat for a while in silence, drinking. Minutes felt like seconds and the gentle ticking of the grandfather clock made the silence seem infinite, but then they heard the front door slam shut. The pair of them jumped to attention and raced out into the foyer to investigate the noise. What they found was a tall, cloaked figure wiping his muddy boots on the mat. They exchanged confused glances before the figure turned around and pulled down the hood of his cloak. A look of instant recognition spread across Rodolphus' face. Bellatrix studied the man harder and then made sharp intake of breath when she realized.

"Rabastan?"

Everything was silent. His brother who had been considered missing without explanation for five years stood there at the door. A volcano began erupting inside Rodolphus, rage boiling up to the surface. Rabastan had missed his graduation, his wedding, not even sent word to let him know he was alive. He could barely concentrate through the haze of red that had fallen over his vision.

The three stared at each other with confusion hanging over them like a heavy storm cloud. The sound of the pouring rain outside filling the empty, dark foyer created only a more tangible atmosphere. Rabastan removed his soaking wet cloak and hung it on the coat stand. Rodolphus drew his wand, fury brimming in his eyes, but Bellatrix snagged his wrist and shot him a warning glance. His face twisted into a scowl.

"I can explain," Rabastan said in defense. Rabastan looked considerably different than when Bellatrix had last seen him as a Hogwarts student. He was taller, broader and his face was framed with dark stubble. Most of his other features mirrored his brother's, the dark hair, the hazel eyes. However Rabastan's held more of a saddened gleam as compared to Rodolphus's fierce glare.

"You better" exclaimed Rodolphus. "Five years! Five years and nothing. Then you just turn up, today of all days. Where have you been?" Rodolphus demanded angrily, his voice bouncing between octaves as his emotions spiraled further out of control. Rabastan slowly made his way across the foyer towards them. His calm expression revealed that he had anticipated his brother's reaction.

"That's actually why I'm here. I need to show you something," Rabastan explained. The couple studied him with scrutiny.

"Come to father's office with me," he instructed, and the three of them walked down the east wing corridor of the mansion, turned a left corner and stopped at the first door in front of them. Rabastan paused and uttered a complicated string of words that Rodolphus had never heard in his life while pointing his wand at the door as it sprang open, leading into a large, narrow office. The room had previously been strictly off limits and was unfamiliar to both Rodolphus and Bellatrix. It was cold, the large chandelier the only source of light.

The black and mahogany furniture was a stark contrast to the bland white walls. A large leather sofa and several antique chairs were gathered around a small coffee table. An old mahogany bureau stood in the corner next to a mirror mounted to the wall. Three windows flanked by heavy velvet curtains faced them. There were various glass cabinets and shelves placed around the room holding mysterious items. Old family portraits hung on the wall and on the far left of the room sat a large mahogany desk, which Rabastan was stood behind, rifling through the drawers.

"So, where have you been?" asked Rodolphus, who stood watching his brother carefully, whilst Bellatrix draped herself over the couch.

"Well on my 21st birthday father brought me in here and introduced me to a man, an old friend or something. This man was creating a growing rank of followers which he and father requested me to join, father was already involved and had planned for both of us to join once we reached the age of twenty one," Rabastan explained, still rummaging through one of their father's old drawers.

"Father bought me a place to live, far away from here while I trained in the ranks. Then this friend of father's sent me all over Europe to try and recruit more people. I've spent the last year in Bulgaria." He paused. Rodolphus felt his head was about to explode with questions, they piled up like books with every silent second that passed. What is he looking for? What are these ranks his family are tied to? Why couldn't they have told him? Had everybody known Rabastan had been alive but him?

"Then when I heard about father I came straight back here. He asked me to give something to you in the event of an early death," he explained. Rodolphus stared at his brother, a cold shiver running through him. Their father had anticipated his death, and suddenly it felt like Rodolphus had plunged into a lake, everything so much deeper and darker than it had been five minutes ago. Rabastan plucked an envelope from one of the drawers and handed it to his brother. Inside was a letter, it read:

_Rodolphus,_

_If you are reading this it means that I have passed away before your 21st birthday and your brother has just presented this letter to you. I present to you a final request. Seek out an old school friend of mine by the name of Tom Riddle, he is gathering followers for a worthy cause and I would like you to follow in your brother and my footsteps and join him. I would like you and your brother to honor the family name by working with Riddle to achieve a better wizarding society. However your involvement with Riddle may involve considerable risk and it is of the upmost importance that you keep your involvement a secret, should you choose to join Riddle. I did this with both my and your brother's involvement, for which I apologize, but it was necessary. I trust that you and your brother will work hard to help to create a better society as I would have done, had I not been taken so soon, and that you and your brother will bring pride and honor to the family name. Good luck._

_Your Father_

Rodolphus swallowed and then stared at his brother, who now sat in one of the various chairs that were strewn about the room.

"So these ranks?" Rodolphus began, imploring his brother to better explain himself and the new situation they had now found themselves in.

"Will become an army," Rabastan finished, looking his brother straight in the eye.

"And this worthy cause, what does it involve exactly?" Rodolphus asked his brother curiously, raising one eyebrow.

"The purification of the wizarding society by means of totally eradicating the entire population of mudbloods, blood traitors... and anybody deemed unworthy of using magic," Rabastan explained, his tone suddenly solemn. Bellatrix perked up like a rabbit listening for impending danger, a deviously intrigued smile beginning to form on her scarlet lips. This sounded like everything she needed, the one thing that could make her feel strong again, the way to reap vengeance on her sister for tearing their family apart.

"And these risks father mentioned..." Rodolphus enquired, trailing off to avoid voicing the obvious. Rabastan gave a grave, acknowledging nod. Bellatrix slowly rose to her feet.

"Let me see that," she insisted, and then snatched the letter from her husband's grasp and began reading it, her eyes like a typewriter as she absorbed the information in the letter. Once she had finished, she folded the letter back up and handed it back to Rodolphus. A wicked grin now decorated her face and her eyes were full of determination. She strode across the room towards her brother in law.

"Take us to him," she demanded. Both brothers quickly exchanged glances and then stared her, obviously taken aback by her sudden actions. The implications of her statement had shocked them both, an incredibly radical suggestion. But the intense look she gave Rabastan told him that she was deadly serious.

"Us?" questioned Rodolphus. The following glare answered his question.

"Yes, you heard me. Take us to him."


	23. Trials of fire

In the black of night and the bitter cold, Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange stood in a dimly lit alley. The winter wind was swirling around them like an icy tornado, sending their hair into their eyes and turning their noses numb, each breath like an exhalation of smoke. Rodolphus tapped his foot impatiently as limp, dead twigs drifted past them with the wind, while Bellatrix rubbed her gloved hands together in anticipation.

A crack to their left signalled the arrival of the person they had been waiting for. He was heavily cloaked, resembling a contorted shadow as he made his way towards them. The hood of his robe was covering his face, until he stopped in front of the two of them and revealed his face, his skin so pale that it shone even in the darkness.

"Good evening, my lord," they both whispered courteously, bowing in unison. Tom Riddle studied the pair as they rose.

"Good evening Lestrange,” he addressed Rodolphus, before glancing towards Bellatrix. “Lestrange." His voice was polite, yet cold.

"I trust you both are wondering why I have summoned you here at this hour,” he began, Bellatrix watching his face intently. From the moment she’d met him, his presence had held an undeniable pull. He exuded charm and charisma like no one she’d even met, and his voice sounded like cold water hitting your throat on a hot day. She had known immediately that he was a man of great influence and power.

“Do you see the house to the right of this fence," he continued, pointing to an upstairs window. Bellatrix and Rodolphus both nodded. “Inside lives a family of muggles. The both of you have proven your skill but now it's time to put this into action.” Bellatrix felt her heart start pounding in her chest, anticipation licking through her veins.

“I need to decide where to put you both,” Tom explained, not a hint of emotion in his voice. “To know where you will be of the most use to me. I have my suspicions, as you have both proved yourselves to be excellent in physical combat, especially you Bellatrix.” Pride burst in her chest at the acknowledgement, her lips twisting into a satisfied smile. “But now I need to know I can count on you to do what is necessary, so consider this a test of sorts.”

“Yes my lord,” Bellatrix and Rodolphus responded in unison.

Rodolphus had known this was coming, his brother had told him every detail of his involvement with Tom, so he knew what they would have to do. He expected to feel more about the reality that soon faced them, he didn’t know what of, but he didn’t expect to feel this detached.

Bellatrix bit her lip with excitement, her whole body now warm against the winter wind as she thought about what was going to happen inside that house. She felt strong, powerful, for the first time in months. She was finally going to show exactly what she was capable of. She’d known as soon as she first met the Dark Lord, that this was what she was destined to do.

_After the revelation that had come from Mr Lestrange’s letter, there were heated words over when this meeting should be arranged. Bellatrix had wanted to go immediately, but Rabastan argued against it as it was well into the night and it was better not to disturb the Dark Lord. She went to bed leaving Rodolphus and Rabastan to catch up in their father’s office, and found them sleeping on the chairs in there the next morning. After they’d both changed and Rabastan had showered, he arranged the meeting. Bellatrix watched transfixed as Rabastan pulled up his left sleeve, revealing an intricate skull and snake tattoo, which he pressed his wand to, claiming the meeting as made._

_He apparated them both to the meeting location, Bellatrix gripping his arm eagerly, excited for what the meeting would bring. This was going to be her redemption, her way to reclaim the strength that the last few months had knocked from her. She was going to be worthy of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black once more._

_“This is a graveyard Rabastan,” said Bellatrix disappointedly once they arrived, surveying the surrounding area. They were in the middle of nowhere, nothing near them but fields and a small rickety looking house in the distance._

_“I know that,” Rabastan responded, clearly unimpressed with her tone. “The house is heavily warded, you need one of these to get through without permission.” He drew his sleeve to reveal his tattoo._

_Rabastan led them down the hill, and Bellatrix spotted a figure approaching them at the bottom. The figure was clearly male, long billowing robes the colour of the night sky covered his form as he approached. When they met, Rabastan bowed._

_“Good morning my lord,” he said, rising as he stepped back behind Bellatrix and Rodolphus. “I present to you my younger brother Rodolphus, and his wife Bellatrix.” The man pulled his hood back, revealing dark hair framing a stark porcelain face and black eyes._

_“It is a shame about your father,” he said to Rodolphus. “He was a trusted companion of mine, and I am grateful he died fighting my cause.”_

_“And you,” he said sharply, turning to Bellatrix. His voice froze her on the spot. She could feel power radiating from his every move. “This is a first. Passionate about the cause are we?”_

_“Yes my lord,” she replied immediately, her voice low and raspy._

_“Might I add my lord, that it was she who suggested that we meet so quickly,” added Rabastan. He smirked, his eyes boring into Bellatrix’s as she stood, unable to pull away. The locking of their eyes felt like he was pouring his power into her, understanding exactly what she needed._

_“Well that is very interesting to hear.”_

The advancement into the house was signalled, and the three of them went around to the front door and unlocked it. They entered the deserted living room of the muggle family and crept up the narrow staircase to the master bedroom. The door swung open with a gentle creak and the three of them stepped inside. The couple lying asleep stirred and woke, freezing in terror.

"Good evening," began Tom, Bellatrix and Rodolphus flanking him. The husband and wife exchanged terrified glances.

"Who are you? What do you want? Money? Jewelry? We’ll give you it," the husband stammered, gathering every ounce of courage he had. The three merely laughed.

"Such an amusing species, muggles, don't you think?” Tome spoke, turning to his newest recruits. “So pathetic, so afraid. I am Lord Voldemort and I, muggle scum, want nothing of your filthy trinkets or your worthless money, but your entire kind exterminated." His speech was delivered with an effortlessly calm but deeply sinister tone. His eyes bearing down on them with a laser like focus.

"Begin," he whispered. Bellatrix and Rodolphus advanced through the room, walking around the outside of the bed. Rodolphus made the first move, casting the imperius curse on the husband. Bellatrix cackled in amusement before launching the same attack on the wife, watching the confused horror on their faces as they found themselves doing somersaults around the room, being forced into degrading actions, even physically hurting each other.

It somewhat reminded Rodolphus of the pranks he and Bellatrix used to play with the transfiguration animals, which filled him with a strange sense of nostalgia. Bellatrix appeared to be enjoying it much more than he was, and he couldn’t fault the notable change in her mood since they had become involved with Tom and his Death Eaters. She was herself again, arrogant, charming, captivating. His head was above water, they were no longer drowning.

"Why us? What on earth have we done to deserve this?" The husband cried when they had regained control of their bodies. The husband and wife were then hit by white hot surge of brutally agonizing pain. The pair screamed loud enough to shatter the windows but a malicious cackle threatened to drown the screams out.

"Oh what did we do? What did we do?" mocked Bellatrix, her voice reaching an octave Rodolphus had forgotten existed. Her voice twisted with so much disgust that it was baby like. “Why does it matter?” Her voice became low again, pure hatred shining in her eyes as she looked down on them. One of them tried to move, but she cast another cruciatus curse, motioning for Rodolphus to do the same to the other. He did.

“Your kind are filth, scum, vermin,” she spat, laughing as the couple writhed and screamed in pain. “You ruin everything, infect it and pollute it.” The pitch of her voice was raising again. She felt like the power of the skies coursed through her veins as she watched them suffer under her will. She was warm, grinning wildly as adrenaline flooded her. “You don’t deserve to breathe out air, share our world, you all deserve to be exterminated!” she was screaming now, pouring all of the anger and guild and heaviness that had consumed her into the two specimens in front of her.

She took a pause from torturing them, closing her eyes as a jet of fire flew from her wand and onto the bed, setting the couple on fire.

“Die muggle scum,” she screamed as the flames engulfed the bed, the couple screaming in agony. “Die!” She stood watching them burn, laughing menacingly as the vermin incinerated before her very eyes and it was all her doing, she was in control. She was powerful. Her breaths were coming in heavy pants and the cool liquid sensation of triumph flooded her. A crack of green light spilt across the room, which she had a feeling had come from Rodolphus. She was almost angry with him for putting them out of their misery and not letting them burn alive, but she felt too good. Her moment of personal victory was short lived as an arm snaked around her waist and sucked her from the scene before the entire room went up in flames. She found herself back into the alley.

"Well that was very impressive you two," praised the Dark Lord once they were back in the alley, the light of the fire casting out a flicker of orange. Both beamed with an arrogant pride. “You definitely have a place amongst my soldiers.”

There was a loud crack and he disappeared. Bellatrix and Rodolphus faced each other, and then stared at the burning building. He studied her with an odd mixture of emotions. Shock, awe, pride, concern, all could have been detected in his hazel eyes. He had no issue with what had happened in there, feeling absolutely no difference in himself. It was a job done, as simple of disposing of an animal too weak to live. Bellatrix however, had clearly enjoyed the experience, revelling in the infliction of torture of the two individuals. Something stirred in his stomach as he watched her eyes the burning house with intense joy, something he couldn’t describe. He wrapped an arm around her waist, disapparating them from the scene before the damage spread.


	24. Looking for trouble

The darkness of the surrounding forest seemed to be closing in as they frantically urged their feet to carry them over the bumpy ground. Roots stuck out at all angles and with only a sliver of moonlight for guidance, navigating around them was becoming increasingly difficult. They paused for the slightest of seconds ducking behind a tree, just to detect any indication of how far behind them their assailants were, but heard nothing except the rustling of leaves on the wind and the fluttering of bats in the air.

“Bloody hell,” hissed Bellatrix, careful not to make too much noise in the eerie midnight silence of the forest. “Let go, I can walk fine.” The arm around her waist refused to budge, so she grabbed hold of the wrist and tried to wrench it off her, but quickly lost her balance against the forests uneven ground.

“Well obviously you can’t,” scoffed Rodolphus, steadying her back in place against his side. He’d quickly grown tired of this entire evening and desperately wanted to be back at home sat in front of the fire with a glass of whiskey. This had been happening more and more often lately, and by now he couldn’t even hide his annoyance.

“If you would give me a chance then you would see that _obviously_ I can,” she spat back at him, her voice harsh where she tried to keep quiet to listen for the sound of shouts or spells cast behind them. Nothing. Rodolphus held back a huff of irritation but relinquished his grip on his wife.

“Fine,” he said, evidently fed up. “Go ahead.”

Bellatrix put one tentative step forward, walking slowly while Rodolphus watched her, eyes scrutinous with scepticism. After a few more steps her ankle gave way and she wobbled, steadying herself against another tree. Rodolphus looked vaguely amused.

“It’s these infernal shoes,” she declared, her chest still rising and falling rapidly. The actual reason she was struggling to walk over the unsteady terrain was a deep cut that ran from the top of her shin all the way up to her thigh, and possibly a sprained ankle. While running into the forest away from aurors, one cast a trip jinx that managed to catch her, and in the fall she landed on a branch that shredded both her skirt and her right leg.

“Well you chose to wear them,” replied Rodolphus, entirely unconvinced that they were the sole reason she was struggling to stay upright. If she would just let him heal her damned leg.

“I hardly expected to be coming out tonight,” she fired back at him. She could feel the blood dripping down her leg and into her boots, the wound throbbing.

“It was your decision, we weren’t even tasked to do this,” Rodolphus reminded her, so utterly bored with her that he was bordering on angry. This had been happening ever since their training finished, night after night her dragging him off to another muggle town or village to wreak havoc just for fun. He didn’t have to go, of course, and half of the time she didn’t even want him there, but something had happened to her since they joined the Death Eaters and he certainly didn’t like it. It was like she was becoming a different person. She was so much more aggressive now, sought violence out for amusement, and caused it with such _enjoyment_ that it concerned him. He had always known that side had existed in her somewhere, and he had no difficulty doing what he needed to for the cause, but this, this was extreme.

“Well at least while you were all twiddling your thumbs I was out here trying to enforce some actual change,” Bellatrix snarled back, the air so cold that she could see her breath. How dare he have the nerve to criticise her when she was the only one out here actually doing anything. It riled her, watching him glare at her with his bored expression while she was the only one aside from the Dark Lord who was seriously trying to make a change to this world.

“Well maybe next time waiting for orders would suffice,” replied Rodolphus, stepping over a tree root to close some of the gap between them. He leaned against the tree trunk, observing the fury burning in his wife’s eyes. “Did you see what kind of mess you got us into?”

“It was nothing I couldn’t handle,” she insisted, the anger momentarily gone and replaced by a haughty, bragging tone. “And he’ll thank me for showing a considerable amount of initiative, which is more than can be said for you.”

“I’m here too, aren’t I?” Rodolphus reminded her flatly, looking at her as if she might have genuinely forgotten. Lately he was beginning to feel more and more invisible.

“Only because you think I need to be watched,” Bellatrix spat back at him, her tone laced with contempt.

“And you’ve proved me wrong so excellently, Dear,” countered Rodolphus. His words dripped with such sarcasm that it made Bellatrix’s blood boil. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance as a moment of awful silence crackled between them, fuelled by vicious glances and harsh words balanced on the tips of tongues.

“Are you actually going to contribute something useful to this conversation, because if not I’ll hex your mouth shut so you don’t give away our position,” threatened Bellatrix, inching closer so the sliver of night air wedged between them grew smaller. Rodolphus stared right into her eyes, refusing to flinch under the rage that burned in her black gaze. He’d seen this look so many times in his life but never with so much hate, not towards him at least. And now it feels like that stare is all he ever sees, like that rage had taken her over and dragged her down limb by limb.

“You need me right now,” he hissed, his ice cold breath curling out in front of them like dragons fire. Their gaze remained locked, neither willing to submit to the other. Lightening could have crackled in the air between them.

“Like a hole in the head,” Bellatrix scoffed, rolling her eyes down in distain before inching away from him, stumbling over roots as she moved towards the black expanse of forest in front of them. Rodolphus grabbed her arm. She whipped her head around and glared at him so hard that she could have burned his hand off of her.

“Who else would be so willing to pick up after your reckless behaviour?” he snarled at her, pulling her closer so their faces were only inches apart. Bellatrix’s upper lip curled back like an attack dog growling.

“I am not reckless!” she hissed, sending hot breath and spit into Rodolphus’ face. “And I don’t need you following me around like a pathetic lapdog.” A vicious, low sound hummed from Rodolphus’ throat. He squeezed her arm tighter.

“We do our best work together, we always have,” He said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice and instead focus on his need to stop her doing something completely irresponsible. He was starting to hate what she was becoming, failing to understand why she had suddenly turned so cruel.

“Not anymore,” spat Bellatrix, wrenching her arm free of his grasp and storming off. The pain from the wound was growing, winding its way up her entire leg and making it harder to walk. The cold air was only making it worse.

Rodolphus watched Bellatrix as she attempted to move away from him, hobbling on her bad leg that she stupidly refused to let him heal. That woman’s pride was seriously going to bite her in the ass one day, and with the way she was currently behaving, he would happily let it. He kept up a slow and steady pace behind her, knowing that there was no way she was getting away from him without apparating. He felt quite like a cat slowly stalking a mouse trying to escape when it had no chance, waiting to take the opportunity to move in. That opportunity arrived when Bellatrix collapsed against another tree.

She fell to the ground, sliding down the trunk of the tree and landing uncomfortably on a root. Rodolphus was at her side in an instant, pulling up the mass of black skirt that was stuck to her leg by dried, clotted blood.

“Let me heal it,” he demanded. Bellatrix was so furious over the fact that she had fallen that she felt like all the veins in her head were about to explode. Her skin was on fire against the freezing air, pure unbridled rage keeping the warmth in her body.

“I can do it myself,” she hissed, yanking her skirt out of Rodolphus’ hand and examining the wound herself. Bellatrix couldn’t even see where the cut ended, her entire leg was a mess of blood. She squeezed the area and her vision blurred momentarily as more fresh dark blood oozed from the gash.

“How much blood have you lost?” Rodolphus exclaimed, anger and concern mixing together in his harsh whisper.

“I said I can do it myself,” repeated Bellatrix. There was no way she was having him take care of something she could easily do herself. Did he think she was an invalid?

“Is that really your biggest concern right now?” Rodolphus spat back in disbelief. A small sound in the distance startled them both, causing them to exchange a glance that wasn’t completely rage filled.

“Then let’s go back out there and finish them,” Bellatrix suggested, a twisted, excited tone to her voice and a sickening gleam in her eyes.

“They will have doubled in number by now, we might as well go home,” stated Rodolphus.

“No!” Bellatrix hissed, like the thought of giving up was worse than what whoever was chasing them could inflict on them if they were caught.

“We’ve already brought ourselves enough attention tonight,” Rodolphus argued, his voice a low snarl against the whistle of the wind.

“Well you go home then, because you obviously can’t handle this,” replied Bellatrix, shooting him an authoritative stare. He met it, leaning in closer.

“Neither can you,” he hissed, utter disbelief over how ridiculous she was being pulsing through him. She was going to get them both killed if she kept this bravado up.

“Watch me,” she spat, before darting up off the ground and stumbling out into the dark expanse of the forest. Rodolphus cursed under his breath, clenching his hands into fists, before giving up and apparating home. If she was going to keep looking for trouble like this, then he was just going to have to learn to care less about it.


	25. Unrecognisable

Rodolphus Lestrange regretted following his father’s wishes in joining the Death Eaters more and more as each day passed. He had not even been committed to the cause for a full year and he was already questioning what he’d done. It wasn’t for reasons related to the message or the cause, those were beliefs he had agreed with and supported since he was a child. It wasn’t the work, which was gruelling and messy and risky. He actually enjoyed that part, found it cathartic even. He was becoming angrier and angrier as the days went by and was thankful for the outlet. No, he regretted his choice every day because of what it had done to his wife.

It was slow to start with, the way their new escapades took her over. Anyone in the know would have just thought her enthusiastic about their new adventures. She trained hard, harder than any of the other recent recruits, but Rodolphus had always known she was competitive. She put hours and hours into learning combat skills and strengthening her magic, spent days on end shut up in their training room at home, the blasts vibrating though the walls the only sign of her presence in the mansion. This was unsurprising. She had to be the best, and she was, a fact that did not go unnoticed by their new leader.

This was the source of Rodolphus’ first regret. Ever since they joined, Bellatrix had become so drawn in by the Dark Lord’s power and charisma that it often made him question if she had feelings for him. Whenever they would have meeting she would sit at the Dark Lord’s side, completely forgetting that her husband was right there too. She hung on every word he said, completely enraptured, and Rodolphus wasn’t the only one to notice. He heard the others whispering about it, about how she was making a mockery of him right in front of everyone. It made his blood boil just to see them together.

Everything except the Dark Lord and the cause had disappeared from her priorities, himself included. He couldn’t remember the last time they spent actual time together that wasn’t their obligatory monthly visits to see her parents. Even when they were there, all Bellatrix could talk about was _him,_ and the progress that the cause was making, encouraged by her parents enthusiasm. She was beginning to sound like an old gramophone record that had been scratched so badly that it only played one song verse.

His second regret, with regards to how joining the Death Eaters had changed Bellatrix, was how it had brought out a hideously ugly side of her personality. The charming, fun loving, arrogant but funny woman Rodolphus had fallen in love with was gone, and had been replaced by a cruel, cold and violent maniac. Bellatrix had become a tyrant, whose only joys were inflicting pain on others and using her impressive skills as a justification to act superior to all except the Dark Lord. Rodolphus didn’t recognize her anymore.

Growing up, Bellatrix had never hidden the fact that she had a mean streak, or that she had certainly inherited the infamous Black temper, but this was something else entirely. Once upon a time, Rodolphus had found her dark side amusing, had encouraged and enabled her, even joined in, but now she was nothing more than a ticking time bomb. The others had started to distance themselves from her after she slashed the chest of one of their fellow Death eaters during a meeting for questioning her, with a knife he didn’t even know she was carrying. When he’d asked her where she’d got it, she refused to answer and sent him across the room with a stunning spell.

This wasn’t just anger, it was sick. While they were out on mission, Rodolphus preferred a swift kill. Clean, quiet, simple, but Bellatrix liked to torture whichever poor muggles they were dispatching of that night for hours. He looked on disgusted at the glee in her eyes as she watched their screaming, sometimes bloody bodies dance on the floor in pain, waiting until they were literally begging for death before delivering. Anyone who dared try and stop her got incapacitated, Rodolphus had learned that the hard way.

He’d never seen anything so twisted in his entire life, she seemed almost aroused by inflicting unnecessarily cruel pain. This newfound joy of causing pain had even made its way into their bedroom, on the increasingly rare occasions when she did go near him, anyway. The first time it had happened since this sadistic streak had bloomed, she had some stranger’s blood not even dry on her hands. It had made Rodolphus feel sick as he scrubbed it off himself in the bath.

Rodolphus was losing her to it, and he had no idea what to do. He missed the woman who liked to sit in silence and split a bottle of wine with him, the one who was always reading something because she always longed for more adventure than this life could possibly give her. Just when he thought he’d got his wife back, after the shell she morphed into after her sister betrayed them, she became something far, far worse.

It was eating him, the constant cycle of anger, disgust and loss. It was a weight chained to him that he dragged around every day. He tried to get rid of it, tried to make Bellatrix see sense, see the truth in how she was acting, but she didn’t care about anything he had to say anymore, not unless it was related to the cause or the Dark Lord himself. He refused to accept that there was nothing to be done, that the monster who had replaced his wife wasn’t permanent, but a part of him knew it was. You don’t fall down a hole that deep and just emerge from it like nothing had ever happened, but Rodolphus still wanted to hope.

Of course he still loved her, which was half of the reason he was so angry all the time. He knew who she was, who she used to be, and it certainly wasn’t this. He wanted that person back, the cocky girl who was never wrong that he met in first year. The young woman who told everyone she was stronger than everything, but displayed her vulnerabilities in her eyes. When he’d thought of them as partners in crime as they grew up together, he hadn’t imagined that it would descend into actual crime, and that skill and power would go so far to her head that she would forget him completely.

He felt so weak, completely powerless. He was outraged by what she’d become, but he clung hopelessly to any sliver of her old self. They’d both found that they still worked very well as combat partners, and she would sometimes suggest that they duel together at home for practice. She seemed like her old self then, wasn’t ignoring or insulting him. They felt like themselves again, and those exchanges had often been positive, but if he used the rare moment of calm to challenge her behaviour then everything fell apart again. He’d learned that following along with her wills generated the best behaviour from her, but he was far too angry about everything else to savour the moment. He ended up regretting it every time.

He’d learned to keep out of her way after she had outbursts or he found her arrogance too infuriating to suffer. He was getting far too close to losing his temper with her and hurting her. As much as he didn’t want to do that, he felt she needed it. Her egotism was getting too strong, but he didn’t want to be the one to have to do it. He just wanted the woman he’d fallen in love with back. She was unrecognizable now, and it seemed that there was nothing he could do to change it.


	26. Serpents green

Warmth was the first thing Bellatrix noticed when she was back in the Lestrange manor foyer, warmth and then dark. It had taken her a while to register just how dark it was inside due to her spending most of the evening outside, but the warmth was instantaneous. It was November so the night air was freezing, clinging to every centimetre of her skin and chilling her right down to the bone, there had been rain at one point too, and the last of the icy water hung in the fabric of her heavy skirt where it had seeped in under her robes. She made her way towards the grand staircase in the centre of the foyer slowly, her heels tapping slowly on the floor the only sound. The polished wooden banister creaked as she placed her hand on it, trailing it behind her as she made her way up the stairs, but she got a mere two steps higher before a harsh whisper sounded through the air and a figure appeared right in front of her face.

“Where have you been?” asked Rodolphus from the shadows on the stairs, his voice harsh, demanding.

“What are you doing?” Bellatrix questioned him, a sudden heat rising in her cheeks as he refused to let her pass and climb the stairs.

“I’m asking you where you’ve been,” he stated, stepping out of the shadows so she could see all of him. He was in his night robes and the faint smell of whiskey lingered on his breath. In the darkness he just about saw Bellatrix’s eyes widen, filling slowly with a furious disbelief.

“It’s none of your business where I’ve been,” she replied hastily with a firm tone of justification. Rodolphus let out a harsh noise somewhere between a laugh and a scoff.

“I’m not in the mood for this Bellatrix, where have you been?” he repeated himself, this time angrier. Bellatrix could hear it in his voice, the patience slowly ticking away. Just thinking about him having the nerve to question her on her whereabouts made the blood in her veins ignite with rage.

“Why do you care so much?” she spat at him, inching closer and bridging the gap between them even further. “And what makes you think you have the right to demand questions of me, especially at this time?”

“it’s precisely this time that has me asking questions, where on earth have you been that requires you to stay out this late?” He fired back, droplets of spit landing on Bellatrix’s cheek. She took a deep breath as the nerves in her body started to twitch with the energy it took not to strike him across the face.

“Oh, did I forget to ask for your permission,” she answered, the tone of her voice twisting into a sweet mocking. “I don’t need to inform you of my every whereabouts Rodolphus, I’m not a child.”

“No, but you are my wife,” Rodolphus nearly shouted, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breathing. He could feel his hands itching to grip her arm and force the truth out of her, he knew she was keeping something from him, and watching her deny it like its none of his business made the blood rush in his ears.

“And that changes things does it?” she snarled back, no longer able to contain her fury and outrage. Her breathing was quick and laboured and her veins burned under her wet robes.

“Yes,” growled Rodolphus, clenching his fists. How dare she have the audacity to think that her actions had no affect on him, that she could just go around doing whatever she pleased at whatever time and it wouldn’t matter.

The air around them was hot, smouldering with their anger. Bellatrix wondered to herself why he was even so bothered in the first place. Was the man that pathetic and insecure that he needed to know where she was at all times like some incompetent child? She wasn’t having it. But then something clicked. She realised exactly what he thought had happened.

“Oh,” she said slowly, all traces of rage worryingly gone from her voice. “Oh, I see what’s happening here.”

“What?” spat Rodolphus. Bellatrix laughed at him, a slow sultry hum of a laugh.

“You believe those pathetic little rumours the others have been spreading, don’t you,” she said, taking her time in drawing out the words, delivering them wrapped in velvet. She delighted in watching Rodolphus twitch in anger as she spoke the truth, him glaring at her as she tauntingly smiled back.

“You waited up for me, because you’re suspicious of me,” she sang, his face close enough for her to spit in it. “You’re embarrassing Rodolphus.”

“Well can you blame me?” he growled at her.

“Excuse me?” she hissed, incensed that he dare accuse her.

“Well it’s not like you discourage them at all, if anything you make them easier to believe,” Rodolphus was almost shouting, hoping that she would see the truth in his words. It was infuriating, seeing them together and hearing the others all whispering, it made him feel like a laughing stock, a fool who could do nothing but sit back and watch.

“Were you with _him_ tonight?” he said, spitting the words out like bile. Bellatrix’s mouth fell open with outrage.

“That’s none of your-” she fired back, her eyes dark as death as her whole body felt like it was on fire

“Were you with him?” Rodolphus cut her off, gripping her arms hard. “If the rumours are completely fabricated then you should have no problem telling me where you were.”

“That’s not the point, you don’t get to just demand answers from me,” she hissed back at him, shoving him off her. “And wanting to know my every move is just desperate and pathetic.”

“Bellatrix would you just answer my question, were you with him?” Rodolphus shouted, his eyes animal as he looked at her with all the rage and contempt his body was capable of feeling.

“Yes,” she snarled with vicious pride, revelling in the burning in his eyes.

_The moon shone bright and full, bringing a sliver of light to the freezing graveyard. It was quiet as death, no whistling of the wind or sounds of animals roaming the night, nothing. It was now so dark that Bellatrix couldn’t make out the shapes in the landscape around her, could barely see her breath swirling in front of her face._

_“Are you ready to go again?” a voice said from behind her._

_“Of course, My Lord.” she murmured, her eyelids fluttering shut as the man gently touched her shoulder as he brushed past her._

_They stood opposite each other now, just a few feet of grass between them. Bellatrix couldn’t help but admire the way he stood, the way his stance dripped with power and commanded attention, as it should. She stared at the man in front of her, taking the powerful sight of him without looking in his eyes. He didn’t even need to say the spell as she braced herself._

_She felt the incoming invasion immediately, slamming up a mental block almost as quickly as the spell had been cast. She felt him fight to get inside her mind, the force of his spell as it bashed at her defences. She threw everything she had into blocking him out, it wouldn’t have been such a strain if they hadn’t been at it for hours, if the force of his attacks hadn’t brought her to her knees in the waterlogged grass, where he dragged her up by her hair and made her do better next time._

_When her attempts were eventually thwarted she fought to keep her feet in place against the soggy, sinking ground._

_“You failed again Bella.” The man said in a cold, almost disappointed tone. His words felt like a kick in the stomach to her, each word ice in her blood from the man she lived to impress, to prove her power and worth to._

_“I’m sorry My Lord,” she said feebly, knowing that it wasn’t enough. He walked towards her, the darkness swallowing up his silhouette and making it appear as if he were gliding._

_“Your apology is useless Bella,” he said as he stood right beside her, his voice was stone. “You were never going to be able to keep me out, I’m too powerful.” He explained, bringing one cold hand up and placing it on her arm. “Did you honestly think you would be able to outmatch me?”_

_“No My Lord,” she whispered, her voice harsh and her eyes trained on his hand as it wrapped around her forearm. She could feel the power in his touch, radiating off of him and into her._

_“Good,” he asserted, moving his hand slowly up and along her arm as he moved to stand behind her. “You might not be able to stop me from invading your mind but you have shown yourself to be a very skilful Occlumens, just as I knew you would be.” His words were softer this time, and she could almost feel his breath against her ear as he moved so close to her, her eyes trained on the spot where his hand rested against her shoulder, captivated._

_Bellatrix couldn’t help but look at him, his presence held such magnetism that she just couldn’t convince her eyes not to follow him. Power thrummed through her body underneath his touch, she felt his power, the potential that he saw in her and no one else, the closeness of this moment that he would not allow anyone else to experience. She didn’t even realise her lips had parted as his hand moved from her shoulder and his finger slid up the curve of her neck._

_“You are very useful to me,” he breathed, the words sending shivers down her spine. Her pulse spiked under his fingertips as she leaned into him, her eyes titling towards the sky._

_“Thank you, My Lord. It is an honour to be of use to you,” she whispered, his proximity making her breath uneven. So much power, so much power in those fingertips hovering so close to her throat._

_“Leave,” he hissed, using his grip on her to shove her forwards. And with his word she apparated from the clearing._

How dare he think he knew anything. Training with the Dark Lord was an honour, a privilege bestowed to her that required hard work, determination and power. Power so strong that Rodolphus couldn’t even imagine it. She smirked at him, watching the emerald fire consume his insides, encouraging it, hoping it burned him alive.

“And he showed me things you could never hope to achieve in all of your miserable life,” she spat at him, just to see the look on his face. He snarled at her, the muscles of his face twitching with rage. She merely laughed.

It was then that he lunged at her, his arms raised and his eyes feral as he tried to grab her, but she grabbed her wand and without a word Rodolphus was thrown across the foyer, slamming into the wall with such force that the chandelier shook.

“Look at you, you’re too weak to admit that I’m better than you so you rely on pathetic rumours to justify your own inadequacy,” taunted Bellatrix from the stairs, watching his collapsed form sprawled on the foyer floor.

“You bitch,” he growled from the floor, raising his head to meet her gaze, sweat matted hair falling in his eyes. She scoffed at him before raising her wand, and without even uttering the incantation fired a cruciatus curse at him. She laughed as he writhed in pain on the floor, a wicked smile forming.

“Goodnight Rodolphus,” she murmured sweetly once she’d stopped, listening to his heavy, ragged breathing. “Don’t join me.”

And without a backwards glance she sauntered up the stairs.


	27. What we've become

Bellatrix stared down at the almost empty bottle in front of her on the small coffee table, placing the glass down beside it with a loud clang, which echoed quietly around her in the large empty space. The beige and white tile pattern on the dining room floor was slowly making her feel dizzy, or maybe that was just the two bottles of elf made red wine she'd drank since dinner.

She just sat there, staring into space, pouring herself another glass and draining it. She smacked her lips together lightly before running her tongue swiftly over them, savouring the fruity taste of the astringent liquid as the remnants of the glass slivered down her throat. She eyed the now empty bottle with almost disappointment. She had always turned to alcohol in a bid to swallow her emotions, however powerful they may be, and this was no different.

For the past week the mansion had been empty, with the exception of her mother in law and the family house elf, neither of whom Bellatrix wanted to spend any more time than necessary with. Rodolphus and Rabastan had both been selected for an overseas mission, leaving Bellatrix behind. She was given no indication of where they were going or how long they would be, and while she could not argue with the Dark Lord's wishes she hated the exclusion. Furthermore she was absolutely consumed with envy that her husband and brother in law had been selected and not her, raising this question to herself a million times a day how _they_ could have been chosen over _her_ , but she would never admit it, not even to herself, as she was taught to be better than succumbing to petty emotions.

She looked out of the tall, wide windows at the sun setting over the surrounding trees, gave a loud sigh, then turned back to face the wooden double doors at the other end of the dining room, attempting to decide whether she had the energy to move from her current position or not. She had just decided against moving when she heard a faint noise in the direction of the foyer. She stood up to investigate, stumbling slightly on her feet and groping around in her pocket for her wand en route to the foyer.

She was met by Rodolphus when she arrived in the foyer. Rabastan must have scurried off upstairs, she thought. He glided over to her, looking exhausted, but he still had a certain fluidity to his movements.

"I'm home dear," he said before placing a gentle kiss on Bellatrix's wine stained lips. He could taste the lingering, familiar bitterness and smell the alcohol on her breath immediately. He pulled away, displeased.

"You've been drinking," he stated flatly, staring down at his wife and studying the blank, unimpressed look in her eyes as she stared back. He couldn't remember when it first began, they did it all the time as kids, but now he absolutely hated her drinking.

"So what if I have," she began coldly, still staring Rodolphus directly in the face. "It's not like it's any of your business."

Rodolphus barged past Bellatrix and into the dining room, spotting the empty wine bottles and glass sat neatly on the coffee table in the far corner of the room, looking almost lonely. He could feel it riling him up, he didn't know why he reacted like this when she drank, but he just couldn't stand it. Maybe it's because he knew that she drank when she bottled things up, or maybe because it made her even more unpredictable than usual, or because it highlighted just how distant she'd become.

"Two entire bottles?" Rodolphus spat, slowly letting his anger rise to the surface.

"Yes, why is it any of your business, I didn't know you were coming back. I didn't even know where you were," Bellatrix hissed at him, leaning against the wide wooden frame separating the dining room and the foyer.

"And you know that I was not allowed to tell you. Are you questioning the Dark Lord's orders?" provoked Rodolphus. It was a petty move but he couldn't resist, knowing that this was not going to work in his favor if she was in the wrong mood, but he suspected that she wasn't, he was also still angered over the drinking.

"How dare you even suggest that I would question the Dark Lord! And how dare you just waltz back in here and attempt to control my behaviour when you haven't even been here all week. You have no right," screamed Bellatrix, so loud that the pair of them could hear the tiny jingling of the chandelier vibrating.

"And you have no right to be so cold without a reasonable explanation, which for you never seem to exist. I am your husband and all you ever do is shut me out," countered Rodolphus, his voice getting louder with each word. He'd always known Bellatrix to bottle her emotions but since joining the death eaters this habit had spiraled out of control to the point where he felt like he no longer knew her, and this infuriated him.

"How dare you think you can comment on my attitudes and actions. You have been off wherever whilst I have been stuck here, with no company, and you think you can tell me how to amuse myself. I choose how I amuse myself Rodolphus, not you," Bellatrix spat coldly, raising her eyebrows as she spoke, glaring at him as he moved towards her from across the room.

"What does that have to do with anything I just said? I wanted to know why you're being such a bitch when I've only just walked through the door. Why you felt the need to drink yourself into this intolerable mood? You're deflecting all attention away from yourself and onto me like usual, now I demand that you answer me," he fired back, fury pulsing so quickly through his veins that he wanted to stride over to those empty bottles and hurl them at the wall, picturing the satisfaction he would feel as it shattered into a million pieces.

"Why should I? You lost the right to understand why I’m in such a mood when you left me here and you certainly have no right to demand anything from me. How I decide to deal with it is my business and mine alone,” Bellatrix argued. “Also Rodolphus, I will answer you if I feel that you are deserving of answers, which I do not."

"Oh, so it's perfectly okay for you to speak to me how you see fit and but the second it's time for any reciprocation you turn into a nasty little bitch and I have to endure this appalling attitude simply because you're jealous," Rodolphus spat back at her.

"I was in no way jealous," hissed Bellatrix, scowling fiercely up at her husband as he stood in front of her. Rodolphus simply smirked, which only annoyed Bellatrix more, but he knew from the slightly higher pitch in her voice that she was definitely lying.

"Try convincing yourself of that before attempting to convince me _dear,_ " he replied calmly, tilting his head to the side slightly as he removed another inch of space between them, so he was almost whispering in her ear. No shouting. This was no longer about the argument, this was now about control.

"Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?" Bellatrix snarled in response, a flash of colour spreading across her cheeks. Her voice had turned from cold to malicious, the last sliver of indifference gone. The tone of her voice gave away how close she was to exploding.

"I think that I am your husband and I will speak to you however the hell I want," Rodolphus growled, putting a meaty hand on her shoulder and pulling her against him. A look of molten fury met his eyes as they bore into hers, creating a stare so intense electricity could have sizzled and cracked in the short space of air between them.

“You will speak to me with respect and get respect when it's earned," Bellatrix spat, her voice full of contempt. Rodolphus' lips turned upwards in twisted amusement, and he gave out a barely audible snort. His eyes kept her fierce gaze, looking down at her with such disdain and that she could have been dirt.

"Earning respect goes both ways, _dear_ ," he said calmly with a derisive sneer. His sense of calm, of superiority was making her blood boil. She could hear her pulse hammering in her ears, feel her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"Why should I give my respect to you? You're weak, pathetic," Bellatrix hissed as she backed one pace away from him, her voice laced with spite as potent as poison. He pulled her back, this time by the neck, never severing the eye contact in their electrically intense glares. Rodolphus raised his eyebrows mockingly.

"And you're too arrogant for your own good," he spoke, brushing the side of her neck with his fingers, feeling her pulse jump beneath his skin. She was furious, he could tell, but he wasn't going to give in to her like any other would. She was ready to pick a fight the minute he walked in the door, and he was more than ready to win.

"So are you," said Bellatrix, trying unsuccessfully to mirror his calm. Rodolphus laughed wickedly. A slow, silky laugh that vibrated low in his throat, and she could feel it. She could feel every move, every hot breath against her skin.

“You’re a vindictive little bitch," he drawled in her ear so nonchalantly that she wanted to scream. The intense throbbing of his pulse against her collar bone reverberated through her, almost as strongly as her own pulse. How could he stay so calm when she was so desperate to break away from the lock his stare put her in.

"You're a coward," she hissed, making sure her voice was filled with utter disgust. Her eyes were black, filled with anger. Rodolphus just sneered at her again. He had her right where he wanted her, thinking her looks of disgust and venomous words still affected him. The truth was that they had been in this scenario so many times, so many different variations of the same silly spat, that he now thrived on her anger. He had learned to control his anger, knowing just how to manipulate her the way she did him.

"You're petty and jealous," he said, hissing harshly in her ear. Both hands now on her neck, applying just enough pressure to ensure that he wasn’t strangling her. Bellatrix let out a shaky exhale.

"What? Of you?" she scoffed, her eyes now mirroring the amused contempt of her husband’s.

"And you can't stand It," he whispered in her ear before laughing, a low, mocking laugh that vibrated across her skin, along her neck and down her collarbone, where it spilled into the heat and rage trapped in her chest. He pulled away slightly and briefly brushed his lips against her cheek.

“How dare you?" hissed Bellatrix, her hands clenched into fists. She groped around in her pocket for her wand but found nothing.

“How dare I what? What this time?" mocked Rodolphus. “I can see right through you." He grinned, watching her eyes express a thousand emotions at once. Her eyes were so easy to read it was almost like cheating.

"Tell yourself that to feel more of a man, do you?" she spat, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth as he stared down at her with a look of molten fury. It was so funny how easily threatened he was. He so obviously couldn’t stand her being better than him, and she never grew tired of mocking him because of it. It was almost funny how he thought he’d beaten her with his cold words and stoic expression, but she knew him all too well. He wasn’t winning this game, he never even stood a chance.

"Shut up," Rodolphus snarled. The air between them was so thin, they stood practically nose to nose, hot breath and rapid heartbeats trapped between them.

"Or what?" Bellatrix whispered, flicking her eyes down to his lips where they hovered in front of hers and then back up to his. She blinked once, her dark eyelashes fluttering against her skin.

Barely a breath passed between them before he pushed his lips hard against hers, kissing her with such force that she ended up pressed against the dining room wall. Bellatrix laughed, a low hum in the hollow of her throat as she kissed him back just as fervently, trapping his bottom lip between her teeth as his hands slid into her hair, gripping it painfully. Bellatrix found it exhilarating, pushing him to breaking point to let that energy explode into passion. Toying with him was one of her only forms of entertainment, one that she greatly enjoyed. She bit down on his lip so hard that she could taste blood, relishing the taste of it on her tongue.

Fire burned through Rodolphus’ veins as he shoved his tongue in her mouth, feeling it slip against hers as he pinned her firmly against the wall. He poured all of it into kissing her, all of the rage, the burning desire. He was angry as he ran his hands through her hair, enjoying the gasps he elicited from her as his grip tightened. It was urgent, it was carnal, it was twisted, but it was what they’d become, and he was angry at himself every time he gave in to it, angry that riling him up was foreplay to her and he was completely powerless against it. Angry at what she’d turned him into, a pathetic beast so desperate for attention that she made him want to kill her before they were together like this and he let her. He despised the rift that had blasted through their marriage, and he’d fought it so hard but now he knew he wasn’t going to waste this moment, apparating them upstairs. And when the thrill was over he lie there, wondering if it could get much worse than what they’d already become.


	28. High

The gentle breeze whistled amongst the bare branches of the trees that lined the empty street, its chill swirling around the group of hooded figures that stood, huddled together in front of one of the houses. The moon was the street’s only light, casting a silver glow down into the fog surrounding the houses below. Lone dead leaves blew across the pavement lazily, their rustling the only noise on this silent night, the only noise for now.

The group of hooded figures began to move, marching down the front path of one of the houses, they huddled in a group once more, before one figure came forward and stood in front of the door.

"Alohamora," they whispered, and the door clicked open without a sound. The figure stepped inside, standing aside to allow the others in. Once they were all inside the house the door was closed almost as silently as it had been opened.

The figures explored the house, checking behind every door to see if anybody was there. They were met with an empty ground floor. The living room was full of antique furniture and shelves full of porcelain figurines.

"They must be upstairs," one gruff voice said. There was a pattering of footsteps. The group spread out. There were five in total, all in hooded cloaks, but only four stood now in the strangers’ living room. A few moments of awkward silence passed before a blood curdling scream filled the house.

The four figures turned before a body came tumbling down the stairs, slamming violently against the wall on its way down.

"Well don’t just stand there, someone grab him!" a shrill voice shouted from the top of the stairs, clearly a woman’s. One of the figures ran towards the man who lay at the bottom of the stairs in a crumpled heap, blood trickling from his nose like a leaky tap. He lifted him off of his the floor by his arms, yanking them behind his back a little too forcefully so the man groaned in pain. An uncoordinated thudding then sounded from the top of the stairs as the figure made her way down, dragging behind her a terrified woman by her mousy blonde hair. The woman screamed at the sight of her husband.

"Oh shut up you pathetic waste of life," the hooded woman hissed, clamping a hand over the other woman's mouth. "If you think he looks bad now, just wait until we're finished."

The woman was then dragged into the center of the room, kicking feebly at the floor and trying to wrench at her attackers grip, but to no avail. The hooded woman then dumped her unceremoniously onto the floor, placing a heeled foot at her throat to keep her from moving.

"Travers, if needed can you cast a strong enough confundus charm on the neighbours?" the woman asked.

"I can," replied one of the hooded figures. The hooded woman gave a soft but dangerous laugh. The next thing the woman knew a white hot pain coursed through her entire body, as if her skin was being was being peeled off and her insides shredded. She had no clue what was causing it, just that she wanted it to stop. She screamed in agony as she writhed under the woman's foot. After a short pause there was noise.

"But if you don't mind me asking, Why a confundus? Why not just cast a silencing charm?" Travers, the tallest hooded figure, asked. The woman laughed, it was a soft velvety laugh, but in no way hid the malicious intent behind it.

"Because I want to hear them scream, hear them begging for their worthless, pitiful lives," she explained with twisted satisfaction, causing the woman to let out a gasp of terror, which only resulted in her captor's stiletto heel being pushed further into the base of her throat.

"Alright then," Travers replied, almost submissively. The victim looked up off of the floor to see the tallest figure waving a wooden stick in the direction of the wall, muttering to himself. She was then jolted upright and dragged by her hair to her feet. She felt an arm snare itself around her neck. Her captor was so close now that she could smell her, the rich quality of the perfume that hung to her cloak, she even thought that she could smell the rage and hatred that radiated from her every movement.

The woman pressed the stick tightly against her victim’s throat, straining the woman’s neck so it was at the most uncomfortable angle possible. The husband, who was being held down by two of the men, began to struggle, shouting furiously that they release his wife.

"Make another sound and she dies," spat the woman, a third man moving in to restrain the struggling muggle.

"What do you want with us?" he demanded, thrashing around forcefully. One of the men then delivered a firm blow to his jaw, knocking him straight to the floor.

"Stupid muggles, always assume that we want something," jeered one of the hooded men, his voice cold and disdainful. The man looked up at his assailant confused by the name he had just been called.

"Wh..." he began, but before he could finish his sentence, was cut off by a blisteringly hot pain that spread its way throughout his body. He yelled in pain, feeling like every nerve in his body has been set alight and then doused in acid without any hope of relief. His wife began to cry, writhing in the hooded woman's grasp. The woman then clamped her had firmly over her mouth, pinching one nostril to limit her breathing. She stilled, feeling her captors talon like nails digging uncomfortably against her cheek.

Eventually the awful pain subsided, and the man was pulled to his feet, one of the men holding his arms tightly behind his back.

"What are you?" the man hissed, struggling against the two men who held him.

"We," the cold voiced man from earlier began, "Are far superior to your kind and their pointless existence."

"Our kind? But...”

"Silence, muggle filth," one of the other men barked gruffly. The woman on the other side of the living room laughed slightly.

"You shouldn’t waste your time explaining things to them which they have no capability of understanding," the woman drawled, loosening her vice like grip around the wife's neck by a fraction. “We should just get on with the task. That is after all, why we are here."

She beckoned one of the men over, curling her delicate fingers in order to bring him in her direction. One of the men came forward, stopping in front of the two women.

"Hold the girl would you, dear," she requested, with about as much regard for her victim's humanity as a pile of pig swill. She shoved the woman forwards, pushing her clumsily into the arms of the man stood in front of her. He was strong, wrapping one arm around the woman's waist and the other around her neck. The woman strolled over to the husband, savoring the terrified look on his face before stopping directly in front of him. She lifted the wooden stick in her hands up to her face, before the shimmering silver plate that had previously been covering her face diffused into thin air, revealing the woman’s face. Both husband and wife knew in that moment that they were definitely going to die.

The man looked at the woman who had been holding his wife prisoner. She was definitely not what he had expected. She was beautiful, flawless porcelain skin, masses of curly black hair which framed her face perfectly, scarlet lips and startling brown eyes. He gasped in surprise.

"Well, come on boys don’t be shy," she said, with an eerily childlike playfulness, her lips curving upwards into a grin. "We've no point hiding from them anymore."

And on her command, all of the others removed their masks, except the one in the corner who was still muttering enchantments. The man could not see the two who held him but he could see the third man, the one who had hold of his wife. He wasn’t a particularly aggressive looking man, except for his facial expression and the hatred in his eyes. He was a clean shaven, good looking man, with brown hair that fell into curls at the ends. The woman walked over to him, blocking the restrained man’s view of his wife.

"Now was that really necessary, Bella?" the cold voiced man asked. Bella rolled her soulless eyes.

"It’s not like they'll be able to tell anybody Lucius," laughed Bella, turning her back to them. The husband felt Lucius huff under his breath.

Bella moved in closer to her victim, so close that they were almost pressing into each other. She brought one had up to the woman’s face, softly caressing her tear stained cheek.

"Now, now dearie, what are we to do with you?" she mused, more to herself than to the woman in front of her. “Your poor husband over there won't be able to help you if he tried, so what would be the best way to spill your filthy, worthless blood."

The woman could feel Bella's hot breath against her skin, making her nerves stand on end. Bella moved her hand slowly from one cheek to the other, dragging her sharp fingernails behind her. With the other hand she brought the wooden stick up to the woman’s throat, stepping even closer towards her until she was close enough to whisper in her ear.

"Crucio," she hissed, and the pain was back. The woman buckled under it, screaming and writhing in her captors grasp, her legs gave out, she was hanging in the iron tight grip of the man stood behind her, while the woman just stood and laughed, throwing her head back in a twisted sense of ecstasy. The husband began to struggle, until he was met with the same fate as his wife, back at the mercy of the brutal agony searing through his veins.

Once it was over the woman collapsed in a sobbing heap at their feet, sniveling shamelessly on the ground. Her husband still tried to voice his complaints but was met with punches, causing a pool of blood to form at the corner of his mouth.

"Keep an eye on her would you," Bella began to the man stood in front of her, looking down with disgust at the woman on the floor. “I’m going to take care of the loud one." She finished, placing a kiss on the man’s lips.

She strode over, stopping herself in front of the bleeding man. "My husband and I think you should be a little more like your wife there," she said, turning her head in the direction of the body a few feet away.

"You bitch! What have you done to her?" the man shouted, sending bloody spit flying into the air, a sole drop landing on the woman’s porcelain face. Her eyes flashed violently with rage, without breaking eye contact, she dug something out from a hidden pocket and slashed him across the cheek. Blood seeped from the searing cut.

"You dare raise your voice at me you filthy muggle," she hissed, jamming the short blade into the man’s right shoulder, causing him to scream out in agony. Blood poured from the wound, spreading across the fabric of the man’s pajama shirt like a wild fire, smearing across Bella's hand as it dripped off the blade in trickles of viscous crimson.

"Crucio," she screeched, pointing the stick at him with such force, such intensity, that it knocked him straight to the floor. The pain she inflicted was more unbearable than any other he had experienced this night. It scorched his cells with a white hot burning, shredding his insides cell by cell. Never in his life had he wanted to die more than this moment, to be released from this endless hell. He screamed for mercy, begged for her to stop, which only seemed to fuel her more.

"You hear that boys, the poor muggle wants me to stop," Bella taunted, laughing with such sadistic delight that it made his stomach turn. Eventually the pain ceased, he could barely move. He felt a stiletto heel kick him into a ball before he closed his eyes, willing this to be over soon.

"Do what you want with him," Bella instructed the men, striding back over to the sniveling woman. "This one's mine."

The gleeful look in Bella's eyes made the woman’s insides turn to ice. She was once again hoisted to her feet and forced back into the vice like grip of Bella's husband. Bella pulled out the small dagger from her pocket, wiping the dried blood on the woman’s nightdress. She bit her lip to stifle a cry as the drying blood of her husband smeared across her clothes. Bella yanked down one sleeve of the nightdress, exposing the woman’s shoulder and collarbone, running a slim finger over the newly exposed skin.

"Perfect," Bellatrix whispered to herself. "Rod, would you like to do the honors?" she said, using her sickly sweet taunting voice. The man pulled his wand from his pocket and uttered the same words which caused the searing, brutal pain to consume her body.

Her legs buckled underneath her, but this time she would not fall, her legs just hung limply in midair. She felt the pain worsen in her left shoulder, and when she looked she noticed the woman was stabbing her with the dagger, twisting it across her skin.

Bellatrix cackled with malicious satisfaction as she started to carve the dark mark into the woman’s shoulder, blood flowing from the cut, covering her hand in the dark, sticky liquid. It was travelling across the woman’s chest, creating a crimson stream as it wound its way down to the fabric of her nightgown before it blossomed across the material like a blooming rose.

The dagger cuts were jagged, uneven with her struggling as pain overtook her body and blood soaked her front, covering both her captors’ hands. Somewhere in what seemed like a far distance away, the husband’s cries were silenced as he lay lifeless on the ground. The pain never seemed to end, the woman was more than ready to die. Eventually she fell to the floor, stirring between consciousness and darkness, blood spilling over her shoulder and into the carpet.

"I think it's time," The man towering over said sternly, directing his attention to his wife. She gave a reluctant nod before pointing the stick down at her one last time.

"Avada Kedavra," she spoke, her voice soft but powerful. The woman gave one last breath before she faded from existence. Their job was done.

"Will one of you go outside and cast the mark," directed Bellatrix, motioning to the front door. "Rod and I will dispose of the evidence."

The rest of the men cleared the room. Bellatrix strode towards her husband with a wicked smirk decorating her bloodstained face. She stopped in front of him, wrapping one arm around his neck.

"Fire?" she purred, raising her eyebrows questioningly. He nodded. A soft laugh echoed in the back of her throat before she pulled him towards her, smashing his lips to hers. Rodolphus returned the kiss, attacking her lips roughly as he lifted her up and leaned her against the wall.

When this first started, he was disgusted with himself, not fuelling her fire even further as her hands smeared drying blood across his skin. But now, when she's high from the thrill of killing it's _him_ that she wants, and he has no power to deny her. She bit his lip fiercely, pure adrenaline pumping through her veins, desperate for any way to continue her high. Her eyes met his in a flash of desire and he moved his lips to her neck, and with a sigh of pleasure she set the house on fire, and he apparated them home to continue the debauchery.


	29. Prized possession

Rodolphus came out of the bathroom in the east wing, entering the dark hallway, when a series of loud clanging noises coming from his father’s office drew his attention. He turned to face the door, finding it unlocked and ajar. The room hadn’t been used much since his father died, only to retrieve items or books contained in there that would be useful or necessary on missions. Once he entered the room, he found that the clanging noises where coming from items being hurled out of his father’s desk drawers, whoever was doing the throwing bent down behind the desk.

“What are you doing?” asked Rodolphus, knowing from the chaotic pattern of the throws that Bellatrix was behind the desk. As soon as she heard his voice she shot up immediately, racing out from behind the desk and speeding over to him.

“You can’t be in here,” she declared as she flew over to him, pushing him back over the threshold. “Get out.” Once Rodolphus had recovered from the shock of the sudden movement, he folded his arms over his chest, standing a few inches away from his wife.

“Can’t be in here?” he questioned, keeping his voice cold and emotionless. “This is my father’s office.”

“I have something in here and it is paramount that I keep it safe,” raved Bellatrix, her eyes wide and brimming with manic energy. “That means keeping it away from everyone, including you.”

“What do you think I’m going to do to it?” Rodolphus scoffed, pursing his lips before meeting her wild stare. “Unless you just don’t want me to see.” He often did this with her, making out like she was keeping secrets every time she challenged him on something. He never got any answers, but it always angered her, and once she was angered the topic of conversation was lost to a battle of dominance.

“Don’t be so childish Rodolphus,” she spat, shooting him and unimpressed look. He leaned in closer.

“Coming from the person blocking the door,” he replied, his voice low but harsh. She let out a huff of breath.

“It was entrusted to me,” she explained, Rodolphus having no idea what ‘it’ even was. He was starting to think she had become completely delusional. “I have to keep it safe.”

“Am I not safe?” he said slowly, raising an eyebrow.

“If you don’t even know what it is then why should I give you that information?” she replied, realizing that she had the upper hand. He didn’t know what was happening and she did. She had the control over the information, he was the one begging for answers.

“Because this is my house,” Rodolphus said gruffly, before shoving Bellatrix out of the way. She ignited as her body slammed into the door, her skin hot and her insides on fire as she charged after Rodolphus, who had strode into the office.

“Hey,” she snapped, every cell in her body bursting with rage as he picked up the golden goblet that was sat on top of the desk. Seeing his hands on it made her want to burn them. He had no idea what he was holding, why she’d been told by the Dark Lord to protect it at all costs.

“A cup,” Rodolphus scoffed, looking thoroughly underwhelmed as he tossed the goblet in the air and caught it. Bellatrix couldn’t bear seeing a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul being treated so carelessly. She summoned the cup into her hands and blasted Rodolphus across the room.

“How dare you?” she screeched as she watched him fly into the wall and crumple to the floor.

“All that for a ruddy cup,” laughed Rodolphus as he rose from the floor. “I thought much more of you _dear,_ than to be guarding goblets.” His words dripped with a calm distain that made Bellatrix clench her fist, blood rushing in her ears. “It’s a shame that whoever entrusted it to you clearly didn’t.”

He knew he’d done it then, he knew that had got to her. He licked the blood from cut on his lip and swallowed the metallic taste of it. Rodolphus had gotten used to the fact that Bellatrix had become unhinged years ago. He was completely immune to it now. There were still glimpses of her old self in there, and he refused to give up on those glimpses, even at the cost of what he had to put up with in the mean time. He felt almost sorry for her, watching her clutch that goblet to her chest like it was her most prized possession. He wondered if she still got as much joy out of riling him as he did riling her.

“How little you know?” she began, her voice dropping to a seductively low tone. She shook her head slowly, holding the goblet up and studying it. “You have no idea what this even is do you?” her black eyes then fixed on him, where he leant against the wall she’d sent him into. “How much power it holds.”

“Well are you going to tell me?” Rodolphus asked, trying not to wince at the pain in his temple as he raised his eyebrows.

“Of course not,” spat Bellatrix in response, lowering the goblet and placing it back on the desk. “You’re not worthy of that information, otherwise the Dark Lord would have told you.”

“Well I’m afraid I’m simply not believing the notion that a goblet holds more power that what it takes to hold a drink,” Rodolphus replied, with such a smug tone to his voice that Bellatrix was tempted to throw the thing at him, regardless of the fact that it held a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul.

His audacity infuriated her. He knew nothing, he had no right to come in here and comment so flippantly about one of the most important artefacts for their cause, the thing that would set the Dark Lord above all others. She knew he was jealous that it had been given to her. He’d never been able to accept the fact that she was a better Death Eater than he was, than any of them.

“That’s because you’re so pathetic that the Dark Lord can’t trust you with information,” she retorted, hurling the words with venom. “He trusts me. He gave this to me.” Her tone changed slightly, grew warmer, just for a moment as she glanced at the goblet on the desk. “Which is why I need to keep it safe here until I can place it in the vault.”

“So really it was entrusted to us,” responded Rodolphus, the calmness in his voice a detonator.

“Excuse me,” stammered Bellatrix, feeling heat rise in her face as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“If it’s going to be stored in _our_ vault,” he explained, stepping away from the wall and taking slow steps towards her, with an arrogance so strong that Bellatrix could feel it igniting every cell in her body with rage. His words were smug as they slipped gently out of his mouth. “Then it was entrusted to us. You were just the carrier.”

“No, you’re wrong,” she argued, her voice a loud and hasty mess in comparison to his collected air of smugness. “The Dark Lord gave it to _me_. He didn’t give it to us, otherwise you would have been there when he handed it over.”

“We all share the same roof,” Rodolphus countered, still maintaining the effortless calm. “The same bank vault. You were probably just the most convenient to dump this _thing_ on.”

“No no no,” Bellatrix shouted. He was wrong. It was given to her. The Dark Lord trusts her the most. He wouldn’t have just handed this to anyone, he would have given it to his best follower. “You aren’t worthy of being entrusted with this. You don’t even know what it is.”

“Well I would if you fucking told me,” Rodolphus argued, the slightest hint of anger dripping through as he raised his voice. He still remained calmer than Bellatrix, which was all he was determined to do. He’d become well versed in their new pattern of fighting, he had after about two years. If she picked the fight , it would likely end up with them in bed together, if he picked the fight, it ended up with him getting hurt. He’d started this fight by coming in here, and he was determined to be level headed when it ended.

“If the Dark Lord himself didn’t share that information with you then you aren’t deserving of it,” Bellatrix stated, cold superiority replacing the poorly controlled anger. “And everyone can see that you aren’t.” She looked at him, her top lip raised in disgust.

“You couldn’t possibly comprehend the importance of this goblet,” she said slowly, stroking the side of it with her palm as she took a step closer to him, her gaze warning. “Now leave so I can secure it properly.”

“And what if I don’t leave,” challenged Rodolphus. Bellatrix quietly exhaled. She was done with his wounded ego.

“Oh look, more childishness,” she said, throwing all of her annoyance into her voice. “Being this pathetic really isn’t attractive. Now leave, or I’ll remove you.” She pulled her wand from her pocket and aimed it at him. He just laughed.

“You think I’m scared of that?” he replied, still laughing. Bellatrix felt a wave of uncomfortably intense anger wash over her. Rodolphus stopped laughing, straightened his robes, and slowly tilted his head to the side as he looked at her. “You’ve waved that thing at me so many times that I couldn’t care less. You’re threats are worthless.”

“You’re worthless,” she fired back.

“I’m still here though,” he replied cockily. She was done.

“Crucio,” she shouted, watching the red blot of light hit him and send him straight to the floor. She poured everything into the curse, a warm sense of power and satisfaction settling over the anger inside her as she watched him writhe on the floor. She walked over to him and straddled his body, pressing her wand against his neck, their faces inches apart.

“You think arguing with me is wise,” she began, her voice low and sultry but dripping with arrogance. “It’s been years. Why can’t you except your own inadequacy and let me do what I do best without being a constant thorn in my side.” Rodolphus scoffed, biting his lip as he met her eyes.

“If I’m such a thorn in your side then get rid of me,” he said, watching her eyes widen a fraction, shock chasing out the rage. She never could lie with her eyes.

“Don’t think I won’t,” she warned him, snarling her voice as she dug her wand harder into his neck.

“Well stop talking and do it then,” he replied, with such confidence that even she couldn’t deny the shock she felt.

“Come on do it,” he shouted after a few moments silence. Bellatrix could feel his seriousness radiating off him. “See if your actions can catch up with your mouth.”

Bellatrix’s heart started to pound furiously in her chest, and this time she knew that it was no longer from anger. She was suddenly presented with a memory from their youth. They were at Hogwarts, sat out by the lake with a pile of sweets, and they’d started play fighting because he’d thrown grass at her. They’d ended up in the exact same position as they were now, after she’d tackled him. The gasp that left her mouth was tight, like her throat was constricting.

“Crucio,” she whispered, her throat suddenly dry and aching as she watched his eyes fall closed. She climbed off him, lingering for a second to watch the rise and fall of his chest before grabbing the goblet and barrelling out of the room.

She’d known in that moment that she couldn’t do it, no matter how angry at him she was. She sat down in one of the lounges, clutching the goblet tightly to her chest as she willed her heart to stop pounding, and her eyes to stop stinging.


	30. The perfect façade

Facing the gilded mirror mounted to the wall, Rodolphus Lestrange examined himself. He looked the epitome of wealthy pureblood perfection from head to toe, he thought as he adjusted his silk tie for the last time. He straightened out his dress robes, flashing a charming smile at his mirror image before pausing. One thing Rodolphus had learned in his father's death was that one of his father's greatest beliefs was that in order to be successful in life one had to create the perfect façade, to live the perfect life on the outside and shield the inside at whatever cost in order to thrive in wizarding society. That is exactly what his life had become, the perfect façade.

He heard the bedroom door slowly creak open as Bellatrix slid into the room. He studied her as she stood there. The black satin gown she wore screamed Bellatrix. Fitted in the middle, it fell elegantly over her figure, highlighting her curves in the classiest way possible. The top of the dress wrapped around the back of her neck, exposing her cleavage and delicate shoulders. Her hair was half up, spilling down her back with a few strands framing her face, and her lips were painted scarlet. She truly looked striking. She walked over to the mirror, her dress sweeping silently across the floor. She stopped beside her husband and picked up a pile of jewelry from the vanity table. She put the earrings on first and then the choker, a small band of diamonds sitting tightly against her throat, conveniently thick enough to hide the thumb shaped bruise at the base of it.

"Would you pass me my gloves?" she said, polite but cold. Rodolphus said nothing in response, merely fished around in one of the vanity drawers and handed the pair of elbow length black satin gloves over to her, without making the slightest amount of eye contact.

"Decided to start the pleasantries early have we?" he spoke, cold and detached.

"You detest these events as much as I do. Why should I not?" she answered, pulling the gloves up her arms, gliding smoothly over the intricately detailed skull and serpent tattoo that decorated her inner forearm.

"Did the house elf clean up the glass?" asked Rodolphus, not answering her question. She shot him a look of annoyance.

"Yes," Bellatrix answered, picking up a small red bottle of perfume from the vanity and spraying herself with it.

"At least someone in this house does what they are told," muttered Rodolphus curtly under his breath. Bellatrix exhaled sharply, shooting him an angry look.

"At least someone in this house knows their place," she replied, an octave higher, before turning to walk towards the door. She felt a strong grip tighten around her wrist.

"I made my point abundantly clear Bellatrix," Rodolphus almost growled, looking his wife dead in the eye. A cold glare met him.

"As did I, Rodolphus," She hissed, shaking her wrist from his grasp, starting for the door again. Rodolphus sighed, picking up the bloodied handkerchief from the vanity table and depositing it in the bin, lifting up his hair to examine the now dry cut that ran parallel to his hairline, before covering it over again.

"Something which I’m sure we could _debate_ all evening _dear_ , but if you hadn't forgotten we have a party to attend," said Rodolphus. Bellatrix just scowled before sashaying out of the room. Rodolphus sighed again, if ever there was an example of the perfect facade they would be it.

He followed her out of the room as they prepared to apparate to their destination. They landed outside the grand hall where tonight's event was being held. The building was tall, decorated by perfectly symmetrical windows which glaring light shone through. The entrance to the building was up a set of stone steps, surrounded by long white pillars. Bellatrix threaded her arm through Rodolphus' as they walked up the steps, greeted by various pureblood witches and wizards on their way. Once inside the building, two delicately engraved flutes of champagne floated into their hands as they were guided towards the ballroom.

The ballroom itself was the perfect picture of wealth. Glittering crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting light onto the couples waltzing over the marble floor. An expansive buffet table spanned the entire far wall, adorned with plates piled high with all kinds of treats and whole joints of roast meat. Circular tables covered in white cloth were dotted around the room, and in the nearest corner a band of goblins played loud brass instruments faultlessly in time with the couples on the dance floor.

The pair scanned the room slowly, meticulously, looking for a way to integrate themselves into the vibrant crowd, without attracting the attention of any of the merry partygoers. Taking a sip of champagne, Rodolphus began to lead Bellatrix over to a table in the far left corner of the room where her family was seated.

Sat around a table by one of the windows were Cygnus and Druella Black, Orion, Walburga and Regulus Black and Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, who were recently married. The men wore fine tailored dress robes and Lucius' hair was swept up into a neat ponytail. Narcissa wore a dress of emerald green chiffon, with short sleeves that fluttered over her shoulders. Druella was wearing a dress of pewter satin and Walburga wore a long sleeved royal blue dress with a low v neck. Druella set down her flute of champagne and rose to greet her daughter.

"You look wonderful, my darling," she drawled, kissing her daughter on both cheeks before extending her hand courteously to her son in law.

"Thank you mother," Bellatrix replied, in the voice that she strictly reserved for events like this, overly polite and dripping with false sincerity that nobody but Rodolphus noticed. A true testament to the perfect façade. Bellatrix took a seat beside her aunt.

"You shouldn't have to wear those gloves, girl," muttered Walburga as she held her niece’s dainty, satin clad hand.

"I completely agree," Cygnus chimed in, huffing haughtily. “The wizarding world should open its eyes. The work you're doing should be credited."

"Yes father, which is something that we hope to achieve in the near future. But for now we think it most appropriate if we remain anonymous," explained Bellatrix, glancing swiftly over her shoulder for anyone who may be listening.

"Yes Cygnus, it appears prudent to keep our identities hidden, given the current nature of our _work,_ " added Rodolphus.

"A fair point," Cygnus began, taking a sip of champagne. "Lucius, how is your role in the ministry treating you?"

"It definitely proves useful, Cygnus," Lucius answered, his voice cold and clear, a stark juxtaposition to the jovial chatter filling the air surrounding them, so much that anybody overhearing may be able to pick up the subtle hints of the more sinister nature behind his words.

"Well, don't you think that's enough talk of politics," interrupted Druella, softly clearing her throat.

“Nonsense darling,” quickly answered Cygnus, aiming a dismissive hand towards his wife.

“On the contrary father, I think mother may have a point,” interjected Bellatrix, hawk eyes still darting around the room in search of overly keen ears. Cygnus shot his daughter a confusing look, a look of reluctant and begrudging submission.

“Very well,” he huffed before returning his attention to his glass of champagne. On the far end of the table, Lucius Malfoy abruptly excused himself. Rising from his chair with an almost alarming speed, he shuffled between the tables before disappearing into the crowd. Bellatrix and Rodolphus exchanged suspicious glances, promptly excusing themselves and stalking off after him.

In order to appear less suspicious the pair waltzed around the ballroom, checking over each other’s shoulders for the sight of that silvery blonde ponytail amongst the crowd. This was a common trick for them, the Dark Lord often sending them off together when he needed to assess a high profile target in a public place. Nobody would suspect a wealthy married couple at a high society event, and therefore they were perfect for planting the deception of normalcy onto the unsuspecting guests. Another example of the perfect façade, blitzing their way across the dance floor, an inconspicuous blur of swirling black amongst the bright lights and swinging skirts. Communicating only through glances, with Bellatrix’s hawk eyes and Rodolphus’ finely tuned ears they eventually located Lucius Malfoy in a rather tense discussion with Evan Rosier by the entrance. When the two approached, both men fell silent.

“What’s all this?” demanded Bellatrix, raising her perfectly arched eyebrows in a way that made both men drop their eyes to the floor momentarily.

“It’s tonight,” hissed Evan Rosier after ushering the new arrivals closer “it’s been moved to tonight.” His voice was harsh under the booming brass score bouncing its way round the ballroom. The group merged together, hanging in the corner like shadows as unmindful guests moved past them, as if they had merged into the wall. Bellatrix let out a quiet sigh at the discomfort at being this confined, while the close presence of her husband was nothing unusual, she felt particular displeasure at being crammed under Lucius Malfoy’s armpit.

“Where do we get out, someone will surely see us,” he whittled aloud, causing her to round on him almost immediately.

“No they won’t, shut up Lucius,” she spat, at which he quickly grew silent. Rosier rolled his eyes.

“We still have time,” Lucius said once the initial awkwardness of being snapped at by his sister in law wore off. Rosier, now looking even more exasperated, drew up the sleeve of his dress robes.

“No, we don’t. Look,” He insisted, placing the pulsing tattoo on his arm on display. A knowing look rolled through the remaining three as the familiar throbbing in their forearms hit, sitting uncomfortably under their clothes. Lucius winced as Bellatrix and Rodolphus exchanged glances, Bellatrix touching a hand to the satin glove that coated her arm and shielded her identity. Then, as if he had been suddenly electrocuted, Lucius jolted back, causing everyone around him to shift until they stood face to face with Bartemius Crouch, the head of the department of magical law enforcement.

“Is everything alright here lady and gentlemen?” he said casually, mustache twitching on his upper lip. As if marionettes being yanked around by strings, all four straightened their backs in unison, staring back at the man with a well-rehearsed demeanor of calm that all seemed to have perfected.

“Of course minister,” Rodolphus answered, flashing the man a charming smile. Behind him Evan Rosier rolled his shirt sleeve over the arm hidden behind his back. Secretive moves had become second nature for them, as automatic as breathing.

“Jolly good,” Crouch said enthusiastically before sauntering off in the other direction, causing a relieved sight to slip from Lucius’s mouth and the others to return to their previous formation.

“Right, out of here, now!” hissed Bellatrix, already tugging on Rodolphus’s arm. Rosier was bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to move, Lucius was the only one who seemed planted in place.

“But…” he stuttered, glancing inside the ballroom, his gaze falling on the table where his wife sat happily, chatting away to one of her family members without a clue that they were leaving, where they were going. He wasn’t even sure that he knew himself.

“They’ll know, just go,” Bellatrix whispered before dragging him forwards, all four of them slipping through the crowds and out of the door, down the steps and into the night, disappearing into the air like smoke.

Just before they apparated Rodolphus looked over at his wife, caught the wicked gleam in her eye at the twisted excitement of what the night had in store for them. He thought back to her family, sat in that ballroom like the world outside didn’t exist, while their daughter was off, dancing in flashes of green light and bathing in screams and blood. He thought of himself, how after the evidence of their adventures tonight are washed from his hands it will appear as if nothing had happened at all, but he would know, he would always know. He would go out tomorrow and be the height of society, the man with wealth that everyone knew, not the figure in the cloak with another man’s blood on his hands, not that he even cared. He just thought of his father, and that while at times he wondered to what was the point of his existence at least he would not have disappointed him, because in life he had truly found the perfect façade.


	31. Lost

Rodolphus Lestrange had the worst hangover he’d had in over a year. It was Rabastan’s fault. Bellatrix had been out on a mission last night with Dolohov and her cousin Evan Rosier, so his older brother had talked him into spending the evening in the pub. This was all going well, until they’d been there for four hours and Rabastan went home with a German wizard they’d met who was in England on business. Rodolphus had somehow managed to apparate home without splinching himself, decided to keep drinking once he’d returned to the manor, and woke up this morning in an armchair next to a half empty bottle of Firewhiskey. It was not a decision he cared to repeat.

He’d just about managed to make it through breakfast, almost throwing his plate at the house elf because its squeaking voice was making the pounding in his head worse. He knew there we’re ingredients to make a relief potion in the supplies room, but the potion took an hour to brew, so he thought it would be better to take a shower before brewing it. At the top of the stairs, however, he heard the faint drumming sound that indicated that the shower was already running.

He glanced down the hallway, noticing that the bathroom door was ajar. This immediately registered as suspicious, because if Rabastan had come home there was no way he wouldn’t have locked the bathroom door. That meant that the person in the shower was Bellatrix. Although this also seemed unusual as she normally locked the bathroom door too. Something felt off.

“Bells?” he called. No response sounded from behind the bathroom door. Rodolphus walked down the short stretch of hallway between the stairs and the bathroom, slowly pushing open the door. The warm, sticky air that had spread through the bathroom hit him, making last night’s clothes feel worse against his skin. He glanced around the room, the pain in his head flaring as he tried to concentrate. Then he noticed the pile of robes on the floor, blood stains streaking the white marble floor.

“Bells?” he repeated, this time louder. He wondered what she’d done. As far as he knew, her mission had been on procuring an item for the Dark Lord. Had she decided to stray from their goal and go on a killing spree? It wouldn’t have surprised him.

He looked towards the shower, which was tucked in the wall to the right of him, expecting to see the blurred porcelain silhouette of her body through the glass, instead finding the outline of her collapsed on the shower floor.

“Shit,” he hissed, the splitting pain in his head spreading to the rest of his body as he undid the clasp of the robes he was wearing over a simple shirt and trousers, throwing them to the floor before pulling the shower door open.

Hot water soaked his clothes as he looked down at her, the speed of his movement threatening to send him down on the floor with her as he temporarily forgot that he was horribly hung-over. She was propped against the wall, the stream of water falling directly on her legs, which were covered in cuts and bruises. He noticed that her arms were too, and her forehead bore a painful looking cut. Her eyes were closed, she looked barely conscious.

“What happened?” Rodolphus shouted, wincing against the pain in his stomach as he leant over and touched Bellatrix’s cheek. She stirred against his touch, which was somewhat relieving, but he still had no idea what had happened.

“Rod?” she murmured, her eyes not even open.

“Yes,” he replied, shifting uncomfortably as the lip of the shower tray dug into his legs. The water was spilling out onto the bathroom floor at a rapid rate. “What happened to you?”

“We failed,” slurred Bellatrix, trying to lift her head and failing. Rodolphus lifted her head up for her, watching her eyes open slightly. She looked exhausted. The wall of pain that unsettled his stomach spread through to the rest of his body, making his breath catch as he realised what she’d meant.

“What did he do?” asked Rodolphus, feeling his chest tighten as he examined the state of her again. The cuts on her arms and legs looked like they came from knives, ones not dissimilar to the one she carried. Her wrists were also purple, she’d clearly been restrained. The water from the shower didn’t appear to be washing the blood away from the cut on her head. Boiling rage surged through his veins, pushing out the pain of the hangover.

“He kept us overnight,” Bellatrix began to explain, her voice lazy, like a person on the brink of sleep. “Evan asked him to go easy on me.” She was slurring, dropping her head in Rodolphus’s hands. He held it up, trying to keep her still so she didn’t do any further damage. “But I told him that if he asked for that purely because I’m a woman, then this punishment would be nothing compared to what I was going to do to him.” She laughed, quiet, low and strained. It made Rodolphus uncomfortable, and he’d become so used to Bellatrix’s twisted side that he didn’t think she could ever make him feel like that again.

“You need to be healed,” said Rodolphus, sitting further inside the shower. His clothes were completely soaked through now, and felt disgusting as they stuck to him, but he couldn’t find the energy to care. “You’re barely conscious.”

“I hit my head, it’s nothing,” muttered Bellatrix, opening her eyes just enough that Rodolphus could see the black of her irises. “We were bound to chairs with barbed rope and I fell off mine.” She lifted one hand up and attempted to bat him with it, but missed and ended up hitting her stomach.

“You need to come out of here so I can heal you,” stated Rodolphus, water dripping in his eyes from strands of wet hair.

“No,” she breathed, wincing as she tried to shake her head. “It’s okay. We failed.”

“What?” stammered Rodolphus, unable to believe what had just come out of her mouth.

“The rope cuts can’t be healed anyway,” explained Bellatrix drowsily, her voice almost incomprehensible over the pattering of the shower. “They’ll fade in a few hours. I should know, I helped create the enchantment.” She laughed again, a low, twisted laugh.

Rodolphus felt sick looking at her. She was perfectly comfortable with the fact she was bruised and battered all over, on the brink of unconsciousness, all because she had failed the Dark Lord. She almost seemed happy about it.

A cold, heavy ache shot through his body, starting in his chest and slowly chilling his insides, despite the heat from the water. This was no longer the woman he fell in love with. The woman he’d fallen in love with never let anyone control her or hurt her willingly. Nobody, not even her own parents. He remembered her telling him that her father had used both physical and magical violence on her and her sisters growing up, and she got the worst of it because she would never cower before him. Defiant to the core, even as a child. That wasn’t the woman he was looking at now.

This was the Dark Lord’s slave. Someone so completely overcome with the need to please him that being bound and tortured was completely okay, because she deserved to be punished for failing him. This was the woman he was hoping she wouldn’t become, but somewhere knew that it was too late. It infuriated him. The fire, the fierce determination and independence that had made Bellatrix xo charming and endearing when he had first met her was no longer there. She was happy to be used, to be walked over and punished in the name of servitude, just because one man declared himself all powerful.

Rodolphus dragged her out of the shower, her body limp against him as he wrapped the robe he’d shed earlier around her. It was damp now, and still stunk of alcohol, but it was the first thing he could find. He picked her up, almost collapsing back down again as the pains of his hangover came back to him with a nauseating roar, but he managed to stay upright and carry her to bed. He told her to rest, reassuring her that he would make something for her head, as he was planning to do for his own headache, before turning to leave. Before he exited the room, he looked down at her, a heavy feeling settling in his chest as he realised the woman she used to be was now completely lost.

 

 

 


	32. Protégé

Bartemius Crouch Junior stood at the large, wrought iron gates guarding the house of the people he had been informed by his master would be responsible for training him. The house was heavily warded, which he knew, so he hadn’t attempted to open the gates. Given this family’s notoriety amongst the circle, he didn’t know what unpleasant surprises may be waiting if he tried.

He couldn’t see the mansion from the gate, only the shadow of small trees in the darkness. He glanced at the ground, wondering if he was too early. His master told him that they would be expecting him. For September, the night was surprisingly warm, and Barty was sweating under his robes. Although he expected that could be nerves.

After a short while, a figure appeared at the gates. His presence startled Barty, who let out a gruff squawk, causing the other man to laugh. From what Barty could see, the man was tall and wore his hair buzzed, stubble lining the bottom half of his face. He withdrew his wand and opened the gates.

“You must be Bartemius,” he said as the gates swung open.

“Barty, please,” he insisted as he stepped onto the grounds. The other man extended his hand.

“Rabastan Lestrange.” Barty shook his hand.

“Come with me,” instructed Rabastan, and the pair of them strolled down the gravel drive towards the entrance of the mansion. The walk was silent, and Barty kept his hands in his pockets, looking up at his escort. He’d heard so many things about this family, not all of them good. But what was certain is that they were some of the Dark Lord’s most powerful, and loyal followers.

The mansion was U shaped and completely symmetrical, windows lining the front walls in perfect alignment and semi-circular balconies extending from the front of both wings. The light in the upstairs room of the east wing was on, the only light Barty could see. They walked up a short set of steps and entered.

Once they were in the foyer, another man was stood in front of the staircase. He was shorter than Rabastan, but broader in the shoulders, clearly his brother. Barty drew his gaze from one to the other. Rabastan’s brother was clean shaven but his hair was longer, falling in curls just above his ears. They were both olive skinned and shared many of the same facial features, but they were also distinctly different. Barty made his way over to the brother.

“You must be the trainee,” he said, his voice not as gruff as his brothers. He extended his hand.

“Rodolphus Lestrange,” he said. Barty shook his hand.

“Barty Crouch, Jr.”

“So we’ve got the minister’s boy,” said Rodolphus, clearly intrigued as he studied Barty, smirking slightly has he looked at his brother. “Well this ought to be interesting.” A loud clanging sound echoed from upstairs, directing everyone’s attention towards the upstairs landing above them. Rodolphus and Rabastan shrugged as they exchanged glances, and Barty decided to look in the other direction.

A few seconds after the clanging, the repetitive thumping sound of someone coming down the stairs rather forcefully began to spread through the foyer. They all looked up, following the swish of burgundy and black that made its way down the stairs. Barty felt his heart skip nervously. He didn’t need an introduction, he knew exactly who this was.

“Bloody elf knocked a wine glass over again,” a shrill female voice fumed as the figure neared the bottom of the stairs. “Useless thing, I should lop its head off.”

“Planning on integrating your family tradition into ours, dear,” replied Rodolphus, clearly amused by the woman. He folded his arms over his chest, smiling at her. “You may want to wait until after our guest leaves.”

Barty watched Bellatrix Lestrange stop dead at the foot of the stairs, her eyes widening as she took him in. she was an incredibly attractive woman, so much that Barty had to pay attention to whether his mouth was closed or not, as her husband was stood right next to him. Her skin was moon white, a mass of shining black curls framing her face. Her lips were painted the same deep burgundy as her dress, which was complimented by black robes that fastened along her collarbone.

“And who do we have here?” she drawled, her voice low and sultry. Barty felt the need to glance at the floor as she made her way over to him. She placed her hand on his cheek and tilted his face up to meet her gaze, biting her lip as she did so.

“Barty Crouch Jr,” he introduced himself, forcing his voice not to raise a pitch. Bellatrix smiled wickedly, glancing over at her husband.

“Well aren’t you a long way from home.” Barty could feel authority and power radiating from her as she studied him again. He’d heard so many things about this woman. He knew that she was one of the Dark Lord’s most vocally loyal followers, and that she held immense skill. He’d heard that she was notoriously sadistic, and took particular joy in torturing her victims. He’d also heard many rumours about the extent of her closeness to the Dark Lord, with many of the other Death Eaters implying that they suspected it was more than just a professional relationship. “If only daddy dearest knew where you were.”

“How old are you boy?” she asked after a moment’s silence, finally letting go of his face.

“Eighteen,” he answered, maintaining eye contact.

“Just out of Hogwarts I suspect,” Bellatrix continued. She glanced over at her husband and brother in law. “Did you know my cousin? Regulus Black."

“Yes,” answered Barty, nodding solemnly. He'd been missing and presumed dead for months now. “He was a good friend of mine.” Bellatrix smiled.

“Well any friend of Reggie’s is a friend of mine,” she said, with such positivity that Barty found it somewhat scary, given everything he’d heard about her. “We’ll take good care of you.”

Bellatrix took two steps away from Barty, which he was thankful for, and turned towards her husband and brother in law. “I know what we’re doing with him. Follow me.”

They all followed Bellatrix down the west wing corridor, stopping at the first door that aligned it. Bellatrix grabbed her wand, unlocking the door and opening it, guiding Barty in by his shoulder as they followed behind him.

The room was large, and mostly bare, apart from a few couches lining the sides of the room. The entire back wall was made up of cupboards. Barty had a suspicion that this was a training room. Bellatrix guided Barty towards one of the couches, urging him to sit down. The three of them surrounded him, standing just in front of the sofa.

“We’ve been asked by the Dark Lord to train you,” Bellatrix began, placing one hand on her hip. “We will teach you all of the skills you will need to utilise as a Death Eater, such as how to cast strong unforgivable curses.” Barty felt his chest tighten as he saw her eyes light up as she mentioned curses. He knew she was rumoured to cast the most powerful cruciatus curse after the Dark Lord.

“But to be able to do that successfully,” continued Bellatrix, who had now started backing away from the couch. “You need to be able to fight and win against fully trained aurors. You need to know how to duel, well. So I thought we could give you a little demonstration.” Bellatrix walked further towards the middle of the room, Rodolphus and Rabastan now facing her rather than Barty.

“Rod, come here would you,” said Bellatrix, motioning him over with her index finger. Rodolphus began moving towards his wife. “Let’s show him what he needs to know.”

Bellatrix and Rodolphus moved towards opposite ends of the room, making sure that they faced each other exactly. They both moved into a bowing position, but before Rodolphus had bowed fully, Bellatrix sent a stunning spell at him.

He reflected it immediately, sending another back at her, which she immediately reflected. Barty watched them fire spells at each other rapidly and soundlessly, the light from their wands sparking and cracking as they fought off each other’s attacks. They never seemed to lose energy, sending spell after spell towards the other without as much as a second to plan their next move. They both advanced towards the centre of the room, dodging and reflecting spells.

They started sending objects from around the room into each other’s path, creating distractions designed to trip each other up. Barty wished he knew which spells they were casting. He’d just about come to grips with casting non verbal spells, and he wasn’t much good, but they hadn’t said a single spell during this entire duel. Eventually one of Bellatrix’s distractions worked, sending Rodolphus off his feet and into the far corner of the room. Bellatrix grinned victoriously, slipping her wand away and making her way towards the couch.

“Out there you may not get time to think,” she started to explain, her voice breathy as her chest rose and fell rapidly. “It has to be instinctual, you have to…” she didn’t finish her sentence, as she was thrown into the air by Rodolphus, who was approaching them from the other side of the room.

“You should also make sure your opponent is actually down before you get to cocky and celebrate a victory,” he added, slowly lowering his wife back down to the ground.

“He’s a bugger for playing dead, this one,” Bellatrix said once she was back on her feet, straightening out her skirts.

“It’s a good tactic,” argued Rodolphus.

“Until someone decides to curse you to make sure you’re dead and you don’t have time to fight them,” Bellatrix responded.

“Hasn’t happened yet.” The two of them exchanged a glance that Barty felt awkward watching. Rabastan cleared his throat.

“How would you like a drink before we continue with the demonstrations?” Bellatrix asked Barty once she’d drawn her attention away from Rodolphus. “You could even get some practice.”

“Sure,” Barty agreed, rising off the couch and following them out.

As the four of them sat drinking wine in the recreation room, Bellatrix studied Barty’s mannerisms intensely. She was excited to have a protégé, someone they were going to mold in their image. She had someone to share her skills with, someone to rely on her power to serve their Lord.


	33. He's not dead

  _November 1st 1981_

"What are you doing here?" questioned Bellatrix as her brother in law stood pale and panting in the middle of the Lestrange manor foyer. She studied him with scrutiny, one thin, dark eyebrow raised in suspicion. It was highly unusual for Lucius to make unofficial visits without Narcissa, and even weirder for him to turn up unannounced, especially at this time in the morning looking like he'd just had a run in with aurors.

He looked not just worried but terrified, like he did in those moments where his true cowardice came out, Bellatrix thought. His usually neat blond hair was hanging in a mess around his face, which was creased with lines of worry, and raw emotion brimmed in his cold grey eyes. Her initial thoughts were to assume that there was a problem with Draco, however if that were the case then her sister Narcissa would have probably reached her first. Bellatrix continued to stare at him, confused.

"He...He's gone,” Lucius stammered, clutching hold of his cane so hard that his knuckles were turning white. Bellatrix froze as she searched for meaning in his words, her heart beginning to hammer against her chest. “The Dark Lord. He’s dead."

She could hear the fear in Lucius's voice and see it mirrored in the look in his eyes but she simply could not even begin to comprehend the words that had come out of his mouth. No, this is impossible, was all she could think, all she could believe.

"You're lying," she hissed, glowering fiercely at her brother in law and wondering why would he be doing this to her. The fear and distress seemed genuine but it just _couldn’t_ be true, there was _no_ way that the greatest, most powerful wizard of all time could possibly be dead.

"Oh I wish I was Bellatrix," he sighed, his nerve slowly wavering under his sister in law's intense glare. He ran his hand through his long platinum hair for what was probably the hundredth time that morning, feeling the layer of perspiration that coated his face, cold and sticky beneath his palm.

"It happened last night at the Potter's,” Lucius began explaining, stammering like that rat the Dark Lord had convinced to betray the Potters. “He was unable to kill the boy somehow and… and it killed him." Lucius continued, his voice breaking with every word. Bellatrix simply stared at him, lips separated, with her eyes wide and her arms folded firmly across her chest. Her face was growing flushed, rage filling her features. Lucius could tell that reality was slowly setting in, like pebbles sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

"How?” Bellatrix asked, her voice shaking just slightly. “That’s impossible. This cannot be true Malfoy, you must be lying." She watched Lucius squirm under her gaze. Pure molten anger was coursing through her veins. This was just cruel. She hadn’t done anything to him recently, or hurt Narcissa, so why in the name of Salazar was he standing in her foyer spinning her this terrible lie. She was almost ready to pull her wand out and torture him then and there but the small sounds that next escaped his mouth stopped her completely.

"Your arm," he whispered, so quiet that it was barely audible.

Bellatrix rolled up the sleeve of her dress and looked down at herself. In the place where she had received the dark mark almost ten years ago, and had worn it with pride and honor every day since, sat an outline, a ghost of the powerful symbol that had been there only hours ago. She ran a pale finger across the scar and nothing, there was no magic left there, none. Lucius watched the realization spread across her face as her mouth slowly fell agape, and the look in her eyes was like nothing Lucius had ever seen before. She looked vulnerable, for the first time Lucius could ever remember, and scared. She met his eyes once more.

"So it's true," she said coldly, all traces of emotion gone. But Lucius could hear the shock in her voice. He wondered what was keeping her so stoic at this point.

"I'm afraid so. And now the aurors are rounding up Death Eaters, we need to go into hiding," Lucius began to whittle into the empty space in the foyer but Bellatrix's attention he'd lost. She thought over the news frantically, trying to fathom a reason for this other than what Lucius had told her. Her lord could _not_ possibly be dead, she was certain. She could feel everything slipping out of focus, like everything around her was being sucked into a black hole. Lucius noticed her begin to mutter uncontrollably to herself.

"Bellatrix, there's nothing we can do, we have to go into hiding," Lucius continued nervously, emphasizing the urgency of the situation but Bellatrix just stood facing the floor, looking at her arm and muttering in disbelief.

"Get out," she said curtly, without even looking up. Lucius stopped focusing on his worries of capture and looked up at his sister in law. She glowered at him, greeting his eyes with a stare so black that any sense of life might as well have been gone. She looked possessed.

"Excuse me," he said, confused.

“This cannot be happening, get out," she told him, shaking her head lightly as her vision blurred. Her insides were cold, like they were freezing together, and she could feel her heartbeat in her throat.

"But it is happening,” Lucius continued, desperation straining his voice. “ He has fallen, we have to accept tha-"

"Get out of my house Malfoy," screamed Bellatrix, her voice tight and unsteady. Her throat felt like it was constricting, her brother in law’s presence squeezing the air out of her for as long as he remained there.

“What’s going on?” shouted Rodolphus from the top of the stairs, who was soon barreling down them to stand beside Bellatrix.

“The Dark Lord is dead,” explained Lucius, not even attempting to hide his panic any longer. “We have to go into hiding immediately.”

“Shut up Malfoy it can’t be true,” Bellatrix shouted, closing her eyes against the rushing sensation that threatened to knock her to the floor. He had to stop saying it, she couldn’t bear to hear it repeated once more.

“You’ve seen the evidence for yourself, how can you deny it?” Lucius fired back, furious exasperation replacing the panic that previously coated his voice. Rodolphus was fed up of hearing all this shouting in his foyer without knowing what was going on.

“What is he talking about?” Rodolphus asked Bellatrix as he stopped beside her, wrapping one arm around her as soon as he noticed that she looked like she was about to collapse.

“Check your arm Rodolphus,” Lucius instructed, his voice completely drained. Rodolphus looked at him, taking in the worry on his face, the way he closed his eyes in utter defeat, before doing as Lucius said and pulling up his left sleeve. Surely enough, the black tattoo that had been a prominent feature there since he was twenty one years old, was now nothing but a faded scar.

“What is this?” he asked Lucius, extending his left arm out at his side. His mind was spinning with shock as he wondered how he hadn’t even noticed it was gone.

“He’s dead. He’s fallen,” continued Lucius. “The evidence is all there.”

“No he’s not,” spat Bellatrix, shaking Rodolphus’s hand off her shoulder without looking away from the floor. “Shut your filthy mouth, Malfoy.”

“Lucius go home,” instructed Rodolphus, placing his arm back around her. “I’ll take care of her.” Lucius disapparated from the foyer, and Rodolphus moved down two of the steps in front of Bellatrix, taking her hands in his as he found her eyes.

“He can’t be dead, he just can’t,” she told him, shaking her head almost violently.

“What other explanation for this is there?” Rodolphus asked her, keeping his voice as gentle as possible despite the fact that seeing her this distraught and in denial made his blood boil.

“I don’t know, but I’ll find it,” she insisted, an uncomfortable determination lingering with the tight shock in her voice. “He’s not dead, I know he’s not.”

“How?” asked Rodolphus, willing himself not to lose patience with her.

“Something he told me,” Bellatrix answered, perking up slightly. She lifted her head, her watery eyes widening with hopefulness. “He entrusted me with this information, he can’t be-”

“What information?” interrupted Rodolphus. He had no idea what she was talking about, wondering if the death of their Lord had broken her completely.

“Go and fetch Crouch, we need to plan,” Bellatrix instructed, the despair that had been filling her eyes now replaced with determination, and anger.

“Plan what?” stammered Rodolphus, blinking at his wife as the mischievous look that he’d learned to mean she was plotting something long ago spread across her features. It was a warped version of that look, no longer the look of a bored schoolgirl, now the look of a dangerous woman out for revenge.

“We need to look for him,” she declared, letting go of Rodolphus’s hands and making her way down the smaller part of their L shaped stairs. She knew he wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be, not with his soul split into so many pieces. He’d made sure of that. He was out there still, she just needed to find out where. “We need to come up with a plan on how to find him.”


	34. The Longbottom's

There was an icy breeze in the air on a dark November night. The four figures emerged from a nearby alley into a picturesque village. They skulked along the cobbled streets, the faint tapping of heels on the path. The leader of the group stopped in front of a hedge and the three behind almost walked into her.

 "Would you watch where you're going!" she hissed quietly, crouching behind the hedge.

"Well sorry Bells, but you're the one that stopped in the middle of the path," a man’s voice replied.

Bellatrix Lestrange turned around and blew a strand of twirling black hair out of her face, looking her husband Rodolphus directly in the eye. "Shut up, do you want us to get heard?” A tall teenager walked to the front of the line and looked at the bickering pair.

“Stop it, both of you,” Barty Crouch whispered harshly. “We’ll never find our master if they figure out we’re here before we can even get any information out of them.”

Meanwhile, Frank Longbottom stood at the sink doing the washing up, he was humming to the songs on the radio cheerfully, his wife Alice sat in the living room knitting a blanket for their son Neville.

"It was so nice of your mother to have Neville tonight wasn’t it,” Alice called from the living room.

"Yes darling it was," Frank replied and resumed washing the plates, blissfully unaware of what lurked outside his front door.

"I wonder if they've let the protective enchantments down?" whispered Bellatrix. She indicated for them to crowd around the front garden of the house.

 "Depulso," she whispered, and Barty flew forewords, colliding with the front door and falling to the ground.

"What did you do that for?" he hissed as he got back up. He turned around and the others had gone. He soon found the front door opening and Frank Longbottom standing in the doorway.

 "Good evening master Crouch," he said politely, drying his hands on his jumper.

 "Evening sir," Barty replied. "Im sorry I appear to be a little off with my apparating, I was aiming for five miles that way. Lucky I didn't get splinched eh, well enjoy your evening," he improvised.

 "You too master Crouch," Frank responded, and then closed the door. Barty walked down the garden path and round to the back of the house.

Frank was now placing the dried plates into the cupboards when he noticed something.

 "Alice," he called, "Would you put these away for me? I appear to have left the shed light on." He went through the living room and into the back garden. Once he reached the bottom of the garden, he noticed a shadowy figure looming near the hedge.

 "Lumos," he whispered, and the face of the young man who had just crashed into his front door appeared.

 "Hello again," he said, this time more sinister, a devious smile on his face.

"Obscuro!" he cried, and Frank was submerged into darkness. He was struggling when he felt someone grab hold of him and a sudden explosion of pain on the left side of his face. He began to feel dizzy and slowly fell on the cold grass.

Frank began to regain consciousness. He stirred gently.

"Wakey-wakey Frank," he heard a familiar female voice sing. He opened his eyes and saw that he was directly underneath a light bulb which made him close them again instantly. He also realised that he was bound to a chair and was being poked in the chin with what he presumed was a wand.

"Look at me!" the female voice shouted. Frank adjusted his eyes and looked up to see the disdainful face of Bellatrix Lestrange, wide eyed and furious. His eyes then glanced to the corner of the room where he saw Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange standing there. The poking feeling was gone from his cheek as she began to circle the chair like a Buzzard hunting for its prey.

"Now Frank,” Drawled Bellatrix, her voice dripping with false pleasantry. “ With you being an auror, we were hoping that you could provide us with some information." She drew out her words, each one slower than the last. "Where is he?"

Frank quickly realised what she meant. "Dead!" he shouted.

"Liar. Crucio," she screamed, and a searing pain circulated throughout his entire body. He began to writhe and gasp, the chair shaking violently. Frank was gritting his teeth so hard that he could almost feel them grinding down. Once the pain had gone he opened his eyes and saw that she was no longer in front of him. Suddenly his head was thrown backwards, Bellatrix was grabbing hold of his hair.

"All alone here Frank," she began, taunting slowly. "No wifey to protect you, no little baby. We won’t harm them if you tell us where he is." she released his hair. Frank struggled against the rope that bound him.

"Don’t you dare hurt my family," he growled. Bellatrix let out a shrill laugh.

"Aww," she teased "Is little Frank getting angry, is he gonna hurt me."

"I will if any of you go anywhere near my family," he snarled, fury brewing in his eyes."If you even think about going near my family you'll be on your way to Az..."Bellatrix covered Frank's mouth and squashed his cheeks together.

"Cut the crap Longbottom and tell us what we want to know NOW!" she screamed. Frank struggled to breathe. She released his cheeks and Frank could feel the stinging where her talon like nails had cut his skin.

"He’s dead. Dead, you deranged woman, Dead!" Frank cried. She stared at him enraged. Suddenly Rodolphus made his way across the room and cleared his throat.

"That’s my wife you’re talking about Longbottom, Crucio." he said calmly. Bellatrix began to laugh wildly and then joined in. Frank screamed as the dually painful surges dominated his body.

Back inside, Alice was almost finished making her blanket when she realised that Frank had not come in now for over twenty five minutes. She initially assumed that he had found something to do in the shed. The next sound she heard made her freeze in fear.

"I don’t know, I Don’t know. AAAAGGGHHH!"

"Frank!" she gasped. Alice ran to the kitchen to grab her wand and ventured into the garden. There were bursts of light spilling from the shed window and a tall young man standing against the shed.

"Stupefy," she cried.

"Protego,” the figure shouted. “Expelliarmus". Alice's wand flew into the air and landed amongst the grass. A panicked look spread across her face. The kid was staring at her and grinning. "I don’t think so." he said slowly, licking the corner of his mouth.

"Incarcerous," he shouted, and she fell on the grass. She was picked up and dragged violently towards the shed, unable to move her legs. When the door was shoulder barged open by the young man she saw her husband tied to a chair which was now on the floor and all three Lestrange’s pointing their wands at him.

"FRANK!" she screamed as she was thrown across the room and caught by Rabastan. Everything paused. The other two turned their heads in an owl-like movement and stared at her. Bellatrix began to smile wickedly.

"Alice," she said slowly and began to walk over to them. "So nice of you to join us. I would say that your dear husband is ok but it doesn't matter, you're going to end up in a worse state than him anyway." Alice began to scream, falling forwards as the feeling of being stabbed by red hot knives ripped through her body. Frank began to stir on the floor. When it was over Alice was tossed onto the concrete next to her husband.

"Frank, Frank," she whispered as she crawled round to his face. There was a small puddle of blood where his head had hit the concrete.

 "Alice," he slurred "I love you."  She held his hand from the back of the chair.

"I love yo..."

"Crucio!"

They were hit by the strength of all four of them. Alice screamed but Frank barely stirred.

"Where is he Alice?" she heard a voice yell from behind them. She turned around, facing Barty Crouch Jr, whom the voice had belonged to.

 "He’s been dead for weeks now,” Alice argued, steeling herself. “And even if we did know why the hell would we tell any of you.” Frank was hardly moving.

"He can't be gone Longbottom, “insisted Bellatrix, moving over to drag Alice up by her hair. “Where is he?”

"DEAD,” shouted Alice, breaking free and crawling back over to Frank, screaming as the pain hit her again, and again, and again.

 Alice had no idea how long they’d been torturing her, the pain so unbearable that she felt like she was going to lose consciousness any second. She began to hear Bellatrix's notorious manic laugh. Frank was still not moving and his hands were going limp. Alice squirmed under the strength of the curse.

 "We will never give in,” was the last thing she uttered before she finally passed out. All she could see was a peaceful white glow.

"He looks dead," Barty said, pointing to Frank, "but she's still moving."

 "I'll soon sort that," Bellatrix replied, "Crucio."

 This one hit Alice directly in the ear and then she was limp. Bellatrix walked over to them and kicked them both.

 "I think they're dead. Let’s go," she said coldly, devoid of guilt or emotion. They disapparated out, leaving the couple lying on the concrete.


	35. Loyal

*I just want to highlight that the dialogue in the courtroom is not mine, and came from chapter 30 of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

 

Bellatrix Lestrange glanced over her shoulder at the dementors that hovered there, steeling herself against the tendrils of cold that radiated from it. She refused to look bothered by its presence, even if the icy grip that one of the blasted things had on her over the past day still lingered under her skin. She glanced in the other direction, towards Rodolphus, who looked as unbothered as she did, before her eyes settled on large metal door in front of her.

They’d been caught by the ministry roughly 72 hours ago, and after 24 of those hours being taken up by rigorous questioning in which, Bellatrix at least, admitted to the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom, the department of magical law enforcement decided that they wanted a trial as soon as possible.

It had been six weeks since the incident occurred, which during her questioning, Bellatrix openly laughed at them for taking so long. As soon as the word got out about what had happened, the Death Eaters who had managed to evade capture or where still in hiding somehow knew they’d done it. The three of them had left Lestrange manor, choosing to stay with Bellatrix’s mother and father so they could keep in touch with Crouch inconspicuously, but as soon as it became obvious that they were suspects, Bellatrix’s father tipped them off. After that they had taken to living in an abandoned house in the isolated countryside.

_“You’re doing it wrong,” argued Bellatrix, shoving Rodolphus out of the way from where he stood in front of a non working muggle oven. There was a pan on top of it, which was boiling over a flame, or attempting to._

_“How am I doing it wrong?” hissed Rodolphus, moving back to where he was stood, bumping into Bellatrix in the process. “And last time you used your wand, which we aren’t supposed to be doing anyway.”_

_“Merlin’s beard,” exclaimed Rabastan, advancing towards both of them. “You’re both fucking useless, let me do it.” He moved between them, pushing them in opposite directions as he took control of the pan._

_“I survived on my own abroad for years,” explained Rabastan, irritation still lingering in his voice.”You should let me do the cooking.”_

_Rabastan was growing increasingly on edge as the days passed. He was the one going out and getting food, which explained his shift in mood, but now all three of them were constantly at each other’s throats, which did nothing to aid the living situation. Adding in the fact that they’d heard nothing from Crouch for two days now, the atmosphere, unlike their dinner, was at boiling point._

_A loud bang interrupted the tension. It sounded like it came from the roof._

_Shit,” hissed Rabastan, just before four aurors crashed through their door._

The guards grabbed Bellatrix roughly, removing the chains that linked her hands together behind her back. The other guards did the same to Rodolphus, Rabastan and Barty. Bellatrix took a slow breath. It was time.

They were marched into a round room with the walls covered in people sat watching, some looking over at Barty Crouch Senior and some staring at them in disgust. Bellatrix felt the force of their stares fuelling warmth in her chest. She was more than ready for what was about to happen.

They were placed into four chairs, chains snaking their way up their arms. Barty was trembling, Bellatrix could tell from the slight clinking noise his chains made. She didn’t make a glance in the other direction, to gage the reaction of her husband and brother in law. She sat upright and crossed her legs, looking more than comfortable as hundreds of condemning eyes bore down on her.

"You have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law so that we may pass judgement on you, for a crime so heinous-"began Barty Crouch Sr, his face cold and emotionless, before he was interrupted by his son.

"Father! Father please!" he cried, but Crouch just shook it off like Barty was a stranger and continued.

"That we have rarely heard the like of it within this court," his voice raised, clearly furious.

"We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing an Auror, Frank Longbottom, and subjecting him to the Cruciatus curse, believing him to have knowledge on the present whereabouts of your exiled master, He Who Must Not Be Named-" Crouch was distracted again by his sons pleas.

"Father I didn't! I didn't, I swear it Father, don't send me back to the Dementors," he screamed again. Bellatrix rolled her eyes, feeling anger at his denial of the act they participated in together spread through her.

"You are further accused of using the Cruciatus curse on Frank Longbottom's wife, when he would not give you information. You planned to restore He Who Must Not Be Named to power, and resume the lives of violence you presumably led while he was strong. I now ask the jury-"

"Mother," Barty shouted, only worsening the sobbing state she was already in. "Mother, stop him Mother, I didn't do it, it wasn't me!"

"I now ask the jury, to raise their hands if they believe, as I do, that these crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban." Crouch shouted over Barty's cries. The witches and wizards of the jury all raised their hands and the crowd began to clap ferociously, triumphantly.

Bellatrix shot a glance towards her younger companion, a person she’d taught and trained and shaped, and felt a rush of stinging betrayal. She was furious with him for denying his involvement, when they were the only people willing to take action. She hated people who couldn’t stand by their convictions, whereas she would defend hers to the death.

 A part of her wondered if he was trying to gain sympathy in order to escape being sentenced, but considering that just made her think about how she was more than willing to go to Azkaban and wait out hell until the Dark Lord rose again. Barty being unwilling to do the same just enraged her further.

"No, Mother No! I didn't do it, I didn't do it, I didn't know! Don't send me there, don’t let him," Barty continued to cry and scream as the dementors entered the room. Barty struggled as the rest of them rose from their seats to the sound of the audience yelling their disgust. Bellatrix let out a quiet hiss at the jeering crowd.

"The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch,” she started, looking up at him fiercely. “Throw us in Azkaban, we will wait! He will rise again and he will come for us, he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!" Barty was struggling against the dementors, his limbs flailing like a fish out of water as they tried to remove him.

"I'm your son, I’m your son!" yelled Barty, but to no avail. A face completely devoid of acknowledgement was now in his father's place, a hint of shame in his father's eyes.

 "You are no son of mine. I have no son," Crouch shouted as Barty looked up, just in time to see his mother faint.  Bellatrix felt a silent joy over the chaos happening around her.

"Take them away,” ordered Crouch to the dementors. “Take them away, and may they rot there."

They were dragged from the room and thrust back into the dark corridor, the awaiting guards shackling them as soon as they were free from the dementors influence. Bellatrix watched Barty crumple into a snivelling heap on the floor after being chained, writhing as they grew tighter and more uncomfortable on him.

“What in the name of Salazar was that?” snarled Bellatrix, feeling her own chains tighten as she projected her anger onto the boy.

“I never wanted this,” he cried, the guard hauling him to his feet. “I never wanted any of this.”

“I thought you were loyal,” spat Bellatrix, watching without sympathy as Barty was dragged away from the others. She glanced over at Rabastan, who looked somewhat uncomfortable, before meeting the gaze of Rodolphus, who looked completely unbothered.

She knew that they would be rewarded for their loyalty, that this wouldn’t be the end. That confidence was what she sent her husband in a glance before the guards apparated them back to Azkaban, where they were to begin their very long wait.


	36. The depthis of darkness

Bellatrix hadn’t protested as the guards stripped her of her personal effects and tattooed her inmate number on her neck. She screamed and jeered at them as they took her photograph and shouted at them as they threw her in the cell that would become her home.

It was just a matter of time, she told herself, waiting out every day as the days turned to months and the months to years. She was determined not to let the place break her, like it had so many others. She screamed, she shouted, which only attracted the attention of the dementors. The news reached her after a year that Crouch had died. She wasn’t surprised, given that the boy clearly couldn’t handle the consequences of what they’d done, so it made sense that he succumbed to the horrors of Azkaban so soon.

She remembered reading that most prisoners go insane, and eventually stop eating. She was determined not to do that. So she ate the vile slop that the guards provided once a day, feeling her body waste away slowly and achingly, but she wouldn’t give up.

She stopped keeping track of the years after a while, even if her nails were sharp enough now that she could tally them on the wall if she wanted. She wasn’t even sure how many years had passed when she heard the guards talking about how her blood traitor cousin Sirius had managed to escape. She remembered hearing of his arrest, laughing at its falsehood. Sirius couldn’t have been more of a muggle loving traitor if he tried, so the idea of people believing that he betrayed the Potter’s was hysterical to her. Although she had to hand it to Pettigrew, his escape was clever. She always had Pettigrew pegged as a coward, but stitching up her cousin in the process was something she had to allow respect for.

They’d caught glimpses of each other, Bellatrix and her cousin, when they’d been brought in. She remembered how he’d laughed maniacally, shouting ‘finally’ at her until the dementors went to work on him. The news of his escape though, angered her to the core. She couldn’t figure out how he’d done it, and although her cognitive function was waning, puzzling over that gave her something to concentrate on.

Eventually the dementors cold got to her. They crept into her dreams, refusing to let her sleep as they filled her head with her worst memories. She forgot what it felt like to be warm, many childhood memories. She could barely even remember the faces of the people she’d been brought in with.

The day that the Dark Mark on her skin burst back to life, was a day she would never forget. The burning snapped her out of the half conscious daze she was laying around her cell in, hollowness starting to settle in her insides. The sheer elation that flooded her weakened body as the coloration returned to the tattoo on her arm was like nothing she had ever experienced. She jumped up on barely functioning legs, shouting and cackling around her cell until the dementors came for her. It was worth it though, as she had been right all along, and the Dark Lord would soon be coming for them.

Rodolphus Lestrange hadn’t responded at all as his neck was tattooed with his inmate number, his picture was taken and then his body was thrown in a cell. He’d accepted his fate, knowing that he was more than likely going to die in there.

He tried to keep himself alert at first, both physically and mentally, but that had just attracted the attention of the dementors. He allowed them to suck his memories from him, wondering if there were many positive ones left.

He spent a lot of time contemplating all the decisions that had led him to this point. The return of his brother, joining the Dark Lord, and the complete and utter destruction of his wife, which had ruined his life from that point onwards. He didn’t care that he was in prison, and if he were being honest with himself, a part of him was relieved that he would spend the rest of his days in here, he and his family’s actions finally catching up with them.

He managed to remain sane as the endless cold replaced everything and days turned into years. He wondered if it was his lack of caring about, well anything, that had managed to prevent him from losing his mind like so many others. He had accepted his fate, not fought against it, speculating that was probably the reason why Barty succumbed after a year. He tried not to think about Bellatrix and Rabastan, wondering how they were coping with it all, he knew that if he did that then the dementors couldn’t detect happiness at the memories of their faces, and come to suck them away.

He watched the broad, toned body that he had spent years crafting fade away to skin and bones. He didn’t let it bother him, no longer caring about vanity the way he did in his youth. He reminded himself how nothing mattered anymore, that there was probably no chance of them ever getting out.

The news of Sirius Black’s escape didn’t bother him. He tried not to give it too much thought. Wishing for escape was futile. It wasn’t long after that when Rodolphus got the biggest surprise of his life. He was lounging around his cell when his left arm began to burn, the long faded skull and snake tattoo becoming prominent once more. He laughed as silently as possible, trying to prevent the dementors from coming and taking this moment from him.

 Bellatrix had been right, the Dark Lord had returned, which meant that it would only be a matter of time before they were released. Rodolphus tried not to think of Bellatrix, but couldn’t help it. As crazed and cruel and disgustingly loyal to the Dark Lord she had been, she was right. As soon as they were out, he swore he would tell her how fucking brilliant she was.

The days spent with their marks now active again were a waiting game. Bellatrix used whatever mental strength she had left to keep track of the days, knowing that soon, they would be free. Rodolphus tried not to hope, but he couldn’t deny the power that he felt coursing through his arm ever since the mark was reawakened.

When it happened, it was the tingling that gave it away. They both felt it, using their marks to pass the message to each other, and to everyone else with one who was currently in there. And when the wall exploded, the bricks crumbling into the sea, they rose, and like an army of the near dead, marching towards the freedom that finally awaited them after fourteen long, cold, and hellish years.


	37. Freedom part 1

Water. All around her was freezing cold water. She was knee deep in the stuff, making the thin prison robe heavier. The last few minutes had been a blur for Bellatrix, a magnificent blur of movement and adrenaline and noise, although the one thing that was clear to her was that she was free. She was unsteady on her feet, one of the incoming waves almost taking her over. She was surprised by her own physical weakness, how things which seemed so mundane before, so instinctual, such as walking felt foreign. She looked up towards the heavy grey sky, reveling in the feeling of the ice cold rain which covered her, lashing her gaunt skin and leaving trails of goose bumps on whatever they hit. She barely noticed now but she was still cackling, still screaming in ecstasy that she was finally free.

It took a few seconds before reality truly set in, before she allowed herself to come down from her manic delirium to study the world around her. She looked around. All she could see amidst the torrential rain were figures, shadows in the same predicament as her, feasting on their newfound freedom. Suddenly two figures approached, different from the others, making everyone else look like ghosts limping ashore in their tattered prison robes. She blinked rapidly, batting the heavily falling rain from her eyes, trying to focus on the approaching pair and it took a few seconds before she registered one of them as her sister.

"Cissy?" she croaked, surprised by the sound of her own voice, which she herself hadn't heard in so long.

"Bella!" the shortest figure cried, and ran towards her in the pouring rain, wrapping her arms around her so tightly that she almost knocked her off her weak and aching feet. Bellatrix clung to her sister for dear life, worried that her weight would collapse underneath her. Standing was becoming an effort, she felt her legs trembling violently, willing her to let them crumple. But she resisted, holding on to her sister's thick coat, almost tugging at the material to make sure it was actually there.

They stood in the rain for what felt like an eternity, without the slightest care in the world. Bellatrix was pretty sure at one point that she could hear Narcissa crying over the sound of the roaring waves. Eventually Lucius separated the pair, whispering something to his wife before the group were transported from the rainy shore to the warmth of Malfoy Manor.

Bellatrix was dizzy from the effort of apparating and clutched hold of Narcissa's arm in an effort to stop herself from fainting. The warm air in the foyer was magnificent, the feeling of something other than endless cold was almost unreal. Bellatrix would have done cartwheels around the foyer if her frail legs had permitted it. And slowly memories of the place began to creep back, although only faint and blurred.

"Do you remember the manor?" Narcissa asked tentatively. Bellatrix suddenly felt annoyed, as if her sister perceived her to be an invalid.

"Yes. The dementors didn't quite take all of my memories," she answered, somewhat harshly, which Lucius managed to notice but Narcissa did not, too distracted by her sister’s return.

"Is there anything you need?" asked Narcissa, using the same cautious voice which irked Bellatrix.

"Food,” she answered immediately, the aching pangs of desperate hunger a now familiar companion. “I'm absolutely starving."

"We already prepared some food before we came to collect you,” explained Narcissa eagerly, releasing her grip on Bellatrix. “It’s only a small meal, but it will suffice. Besides I wasn't sure your stomachs could handle much more." Bellatrix nodded, appeasing her sister before she and Lucius led them all to the dining room.

Once in the dining room, Lucius and Narcissa ushered the escaped prisoners to a seat and placed a small bowl of piping hot stew in front of each of them. The group were so hungry that they wasted no time before digging into the stew. Bellatrix sped through the bowl, but still tried to maintain some air of dignity, as opposed to her fellow escapees, who had the dignity of pigs eating from a food trough. She shoveled in another forkful, paying no attention to how badly it had scalded her mouth, concentrating wholly on flavours, textures, that warm feeling in your chest that you get from eating a nice cooked meal, sensations that she thought were lost to her. She knew in that moment when she looked down at the empty bowl in front of her, that she would never take food for granted again.

After the meal was over, Narcissa asked Bellatrix if there was anything else that she needed, before letting her know that her guest suite was ready when she needed it. Bellatrix cheekily asked Narcissa if she would pour her a glass of wine, knowing full well that in her fragile state her younger sister would refuse. And she did refuse, but gave a weak smile at the comment as it showed her that despite all of the physical scars Azkaban had left on her sister, it hadn't completely broken her.

Bellatrix leaned against the large marble pillar by the door, watching the others stumble up the stairs, trying to find their guest suites. She let out a sigh, a piteous sigh at what they had all become. They were once so strong. She did not regret her time in Azkaban at all, she was willing to make any sacrifice for her lord without complaint and she knew that she would be rewarded soon enough. But she did resent it, she resented it for what it had done to her, how weak and lifeless it had made her feel.

She was pulled from her musings by a hard tap on her bony shoulder. She hissed from the shock and surprisingly, the pain, before turning around to see who it was that wanted her attention. She studied the man stood opposite her, attempted to see through the curtain of matted hair and graying beard that framed his face. One look into his hazel eyes and she knew immediately who he was.

"Rodolphus," she croaked, so quietly it was almost a whisper. She was surprised by how little he'd changed. Now he definitely looked thinner, older and more solemn but he didn't have that dead look in his eyes that some of the others did, for which she was thankful, she couldn't be dealing with a weak husband.

"I thought I’d let Narcissa get her coddling out of the way before I approached you," he explained hoarsely. His voice was weak and breaking but still held some of its old confident charm.

"You could have approached me sooner, she was beginning to drive me insane," Bellatrix replied with the same huskiness, looking her husband straight in the eye and calmly challenging his actions the way she used to. The conversation made her feel normal. She couldn’t believe how happy she was to see him, and that he had barely changed. The ease with which he approached her, made them feel like them again. Rodolphus gave no reply, just simply smirked, bearing his crooked rotten teeth.

"I told you I was right. I knew that he couldn't possibly be dead," Bellatrix said with a smirk, breaking the comfortable silence. Again the conversation felt more familiar, reminding them of the endless arguments they had had before over who was right, but this time Bellatrix wasn't looking for an argument, merely an acknowledgement.

"And you were right my dear. I should trust you more often," Rodolphus added with a smirk, deliberately stroking her ego to keep the tone of the evening amicable. He didn't want their first night of freedom to fall victim to one of her unpredictable moods.

"That you should," she replied as a smug grin crept its way across her gaunt face. She knew she was right. The warm, blooming feelings of pride in her chest mixed with the exhilaration coursing through her veins. She felt content, happy. Emotions that she had forgotten even existed bubbled to the surface and she couldn't help but smile. So much that it even began to hurt her face. She could see Rodolphus watching the light returning to her eyes and she found herself watching the light return to his, thankful that it had. Tonight, she didn't want to undermine him, fight or manipulate him, she just wanted him there, wanted them to rediscover lost luxuries together and marvel at their freedom.

“Now are we going to head to our room or just stand about in here for the rest of the night?" she asked after a long pause, raising her eyebrows.

"Of course, my dear?" replied Rodolphus, with what would have been a charming smile, had he not been so disheveled, but Bellatrix still smiled in return, remembering his smile the way it used to be. Full of charm but with a hint of mischief, much like her. She even allowed him to show her affection, which was something she rarely allowed, except for when it suited her. But she knew that tonight wasn't about him, or her, it was about them and their freedom.

They began to walk out of the dining room and towards the large staircase. Bellatrix placed her hand on the smooth wooden banister and trailed her bony fingers along it behind her as they ascended the stairs. The soft, squishy feeling of the carpet between her toes elicited new feelings of childish excitement that even she couldn't deny herself. She felt herself memorizing the softness of each step. Midway up the stairs Rodolphus interlaced his thin fingers with hers and she let him, giving him no scowl of disapproval. It had been the first time he, anybody, had touched her in years and she wasn't going stop it, she simply enjoyed the new sensations. After all, it was not a gesture of affection, it was a symbol of their strength, their power, their victory.


	38. Freedom part 2

Once they had found their way to their suite, both of them stood in the doorway for a second admiring the vast bedroom. Neither could remember the room particularly well and it showed in the mutual look of wonder they gave each other before they stepped inside, seemingly astounded that the room is, and once was, theirs. Rodolphus gently closed the door behind them and then stood beside his wife, who audibly gasped as she studied the grandeur of the room. A four poster bed sat in the middle of the expansive suite, intricate patterns carved into the dark wood at each post. Pillows and throws were piled high on the bed in a mountain of burgundy jacquard. A long line of open doors against the wall to their left revealed the wardrobe space and a large wooden vanity table sat opposite the bed against the wall. Dressers and chairs were scattered around the room, a bookshelf stood in one corner and a large iron chandelier hung from the ceiling, filling the room with a warm glowing light.

"Magnificent, isn't it Bells," sighed Rodolphus, placing a hand on her shoulder. The contact jerked her awake from her admiration of the room. She only managed to nod her head in agreement.

"Do you remember ever staying here Rod?" asked Bellatrix, once she had returned to reality, pacing slowly around the room and enjoying the feeling of the soft carpet underneath her.

"Not really," Rodolphus began, sitting himself down on the bed. "However, I assume that it would be due to the fact that staying here must have involved spending time with Lucius Malfoy."

Bellatrix laughed. The sound of her laughter instantly filled Rodolphus with happiness, something which he thought he would never feel again. She was laughing, not her loud, maniacal cackle when they tortured and killed, her genuine laugh, one that he had not heard in a very long time, long before they were ever locked in Azkaban.

She sat herself down next to him on the bed, running her hands over the soft, silky fabrics. Their shoulders touched and the pair turned to look at each other, losing themselves in the moment. The reality of where they were had changed something in both of them. They felt like their old selves, before Azkaban, before joining the Death Eaters. Rodolphus looked into Bellatrix's deep brown eyes and they felt warm, welcoming instead of angry and cruel. He simply stared into them as she stared into his, immensely thankful for the moment, until he noticed something on one of the dressers.

He stood up and made his way over to it, followed closely by a curious Bellatrix. There on top of the dresser sat both their wands and their wedding rings which were taken from them upon their arrival in Azkaban. Rodolphus picked up both the rings, sliding on his own first before giving Bellatrix a look, holding hers out in his rough, callused palm. Bellatrix did not speak to answer, she didn't need to, knowing fully what he intended to do. She simply met his eyes and held out her hand as he slid the ring onto her thin finger.

"That's better," he sighed before picking up both of the wands. Bellatrix took hers from him eagerly, desperate to hold it once more. She stared at it, gripping it firmly, feeling the power flood back to her. She no longer felt like the hollow shell of her former self that was reflected in the large gilded mirror, she felt powerful. A whole new surge of emotion rushed her. She hadn't felt like this since they were back outside, moments after being freed from prison. With this length of wood she could do so much damage, cause so much destruction, show so much power.

She didn't even notice the aching and throbbing in her muscles until Rodolphus snapped her out of her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed that he'd moved. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts about the life they had in front of them, a life which a part of her started to think she would never get again.

"I think that it's about time we got out of these prison robes, don't you Bells?" he said, which pulled her from her daydreaming. He was now sat back on the bed next to a pile of robes which she recognized as their night robes.

"I think that's an excellent idea Rod, but what do you suppose we do with them?" she answered, a mischievous hint to her voice. She turned to face her husband and grinned, raising one eyebrow. He offered a smirk in return, reveling in the tone of her voice and the gleam in her eye, the way he used to when they were at Hogwarts. He quickly de-robed himself, tossing the shredded and dirty garment on the floor. Bellatrix soon did the same, dropping hers next to his to form a small puddle of faded grey against the dark carpet.

"I know what we should do with them," Rodolphus stated, pulling Bellatrix towards him. She sat down next to him on the bed and he tucked her frail body under his arm. The gesture shocked her in many ways, firstly by how thin his arm felt around her, so lean where it had once been firm and muscular. This is what she hated most about their time inside, not the horrific memories and the dreadful conditions but what it did to people who were once so strong. The second thing was the warmth, how the gentle heat of his arm around her warmed the rest of her body, forcing out the cold. A tingling sensation began to spread all over her body. She had forgotten how wonderful human contact could feel. But the most surprising thing she found was herself. She felt exposed, putting down the walls she'd spent so many years building, willingly. She craved the kind of attention that she felt was weak but she didn't care, and for the first time in a very long while she felt like she needed someone there with her. She felt Rodolphus shift. Looking over to her left she saw him pointing his wand at the pile on the floor.

"Deletrius," he muttered, and the pile began to slowly disintegrate in front of them. She would have opted for a fire, but didn’t think Narcissa would have appreciated the stains.

They looked at each other, grinning as their prison robes disappeared from sight forever, laughing quietly at their little victory. Rodolphus then seized the moment and placed a slow, gentle kiss on Bellatrix's lips, the first time they had kissed in almost fifteen years. Both of them were astounded by how different it felt. It felt like kissing for the first time again, so strange but at the same time, so familiar.

The second that they broke apart Bellatrix could feel herself yearning for more. It had been so long since she'd shared moments like this, wanted moments like this, that the surge of emotions coursing through her almost consumed her. She felt drunk, high on the simplest of human pleasures, purely because they were almost forever lost to her. Rodolphus kissed her cheek softly, and she could feel the warmth spreading all over her face, she smiled.

"I shall run you a bath," stated Rodolphus as he pulled away from Bellatrix, who was now wrapping herself in the black silk robe that sat on the bed behind them.

"Thank you," she said, genuinely grateful for the gesture. She watched him as he made his way over to the small door leading to their en suite bathroom.

"Would you like me to join you or would you prefer to be left to your thoughts?" asked Rodolphus as he leaned in the doorway. Bellatrix thought about this for a second, and as much as she wanted to spend each passing moment with him there, she also thought that she could use some time alone to come to terms with everything. It all still felt so surreal.

"I think I would prefer to be left alone for now Rod," she replied, rather quietly. He nodded his head.

"As you wish," he said, before disappearing through the doorway. Bellatrix sat for a moment before the sudden gush of running water filled her ears, bringing her to her feet. She walked over to the bathroom, ignoring the furious burn in her legs as she went. The sight and sound and feel of hot water was too good an opportunity to miss.

As soon as she wandered into the bathroom the soft warmth of the carpet was snatched away from her and replaced with cold hard tile. As bathrooms went it was lavish. A gilded mirror on the wall of beautiful emerald tile, juxtaposed against the white of everything else, which was almost blinding. The bath was at the far end of the room, large and claw footed, and Rodolphus was beside it, swinging his hands under the stream of the tap with childish delight. Bellatrix sat herself on the toilet seat and watched him as he held up handfuls of water, grinning as he watched it slip between his fingers like sand, before falling into the tub. She giggled.

"Oh," said Rodolphus, startled. “Bells, I didn't hear you come in. I was slightly distracted." He laughed as droplets of water fell from his hands onto the tile floor. Usually she would have laughed, ridiculed anybody who had found such a basic thing as hot water so amusing, but this was different. She felt herself yearning to run her hands under the jets of water, to revel in the feel of it against her skin. She stood up, walking over to the tub and sitting beside her husband, finally plunging her hands into the water's stream.

Her immediate reaction was to withdraw her hand. The water was too hot, it was boiling her paper thin skin. Rodolphus held it and kept it under the water, until the water seemed to cool. She realized then that it was because she had not felt hot water in so long that her body had taken a while to adjust. They just sat there together watching the tub slowly fill. No words, no movement, just stillness and the sound of the water. It felt like all they needed.

Once the tub was full Rodolphus left her alone, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek as he left. Bellatrix then lowered herself into the water. The feel of the water was wonderful, so much that it threatened to pull her into mania. She let out a gasp, at first as a reaction to the heat but then it became more of a gasp of amazement that she was actually using hot water, which only this morning would have been an impossibility, a fantasy. The concept of one fantasizing over hot water would have seemed hilarious to anybody, anybody who hadn't been through what she had.

She leaned backwards, reclining into the water and feeling the heat soak through, covering every frail bone and every inch of deathly pale skin. She closed her eyes, trying to bring the events of the past few hours into an order, rather than the rapid blur of senses and adrenaline that they felt like. Bellatrix felt so relaxed that she almost fell asleep, but sat up with a start when she realized this. She began washing herself, watching as the dirt fell away from her skin, her hair hanging limp against her back.

As the soap came off her and mingled with the water something took Bellatrix by surprise. It was her own body. Her skin was a strange colour, pasty and sallow where it had once had a healthy ivory glow. Deep blue veins snaked up her arms, making her skin look as thin as paper, and all over her body was peppered with cuts and bruises, purple, pink and yellow. She examined over a decade’s worth of physical damage. The dirt may have gone, but Azkaban was still with her. The place had marred her skin and etched itself into her brain, marking her inside and out.

She climbed out of the bath, wrapping a thick towel around herself before exiting the bathroom. She didn't bother looking in the mirror. Once out, she found Rodolphus stood in front of the vanity table, looking at himself in the mirror. He didn't seem to hear her come in so she cleared her throat.

"It's your turn. The water is still hot," said Bellatrix as Rodolphus turned around. He gave a small smile before heading towards the bathroom.

"Thank you," he replied before closing the door behind him.

Bellatrix was once again all alone with her thoughts. She changed into her night robes, noticing how they now hung loosely on her thin frame whereas before they had fit just fine. She wandered over to the mirror, staring at the reflection. Her arms were so bruised it looked as if she'd been hit with some kind of jinx, her hair had lost all of the thickness and shimmer it once had and was now thin and wiry, hanging beside her face in matted clumps. She was going to struggle to get a brush through it even when it was dry.

Her eyes looked as if they had been sucked back into their sockets, her cheeks looked hollow and her collarbone was much more visible than it should have been. But the worst thing was the brand, the number that was burned into her flesh, a constant reminder of Azkaban. She looked at it and her nose wrinkled in disgust. It was an eyesore and she wished it gone, but it was stuck there permanently, another hold on her, tying her to that place. One thing that distracted her from the branding was a different one, a larger one, sitting prominently on the inside of her left arm. Her dark mark. When she looked at it, bold where it had once been faded. It made her feel like all of the other marks were worth it, and for all that she had to suffer through she would be rewarded.

Eventually Bellatrix got tired of looking at her reflection and lay down on the large bed in the middle of the room, covering herself in the blankets, loosing herself in the luxury of thick, soft, comfortable bedding. She was asleep by the time Rodolphus came back in the room.

He sat at the foot of the bed, somewhat glad that she couldn't see how visible his ribs were or all of the bruises, but at the same time he'd wanted her to be awake, just to extend his time alone with her, for soon they would be healthy again and their life would return to the way it was before. He didn't mind, well more accurately he didn't care. He hoped that things would be slightly different this time, just like they were tonight, but he supposed that he knew that wouldn’t last.

He certainly wasn’t ungrateful. They were free, and the strange limbo that the dynamics of their relationship hung in wouldn’t disappear the moment he closed his eyes. He settled into bed next to his wife, now fast asleep, and as he drifted off himself he thought for one last time how great it finally felt to be free.


	39. Nightmares

"Rod," huffed Bellatrix from her side of the bed. She sat propped against the mountain of pillows, Burgundy sheets pulled up to her chest, her arms folded impatiently over the top of them. The thin strap of her nightdress slipped down her shoulder with the movement but she ignored it. “For the love of Salazar, would you stop pacing?"

Rodolphus was pacing back and forth in front of the bed, wondering the same space of carpet aimlessly, his feet shuffling behind him as he dragged himself along. “It helps me relax," he explained.

"Well could you go and have your little midnight strole somewhere else. It's distracting," Bellatrix said, her tone filled with annoyance. Rodolphus stopped pacing for a second and faced his wife.

"Well I'm sorry that I am distracting you," he began, leaning against one of the bedposts. "But if there is any way I’m going to sleep tonight then I need to be more relaxed."

"You can lay and stare at the ceiling for all I care, just stop pacing. I am trying to sleep and it's off putting," explained Bellatrix, still sounding vexed.

"Fine," muttered Rodolphus, thinking it better not to argue with Bellatrix at this late an hour with others trying to sleep. He moved his way over to the bed, climbing in beside his wife. Bellatrix felt the bed dip with Rodolphus's weight. She turned on her side, adjusting herself against the pile of pillows in order to be comfortable enough to sleep.

"Night, dear," she heard him say from the other side of the bed.

"Night, Rod," she said quietly before closing her eyes, preparing to be slowly lulled to sleep.

"Do you want me to turn out the light?" asked Rodolphus. The room was lit dimly by the light of a few candles from the chandelier, which cast the room in a warm glow, compared to total darkness.

"No. Its fine," Bellatrix replied. The warm glow from the candles were comfortable, and although the both of them never said a word, neither wanted to relive the cold and painful memories which the darkness brought with it.

Bellatrix sighed gently as she pulled the covers up over her shoulders, settling against the pillows. Slowly she began to fall into what she hoped would be a deep and dreamless sleep.

She wasn't sure how much later, but she woke with a sudden start. Sweating, panting, screaming. This is what she hated most about sleeping. After spending so many nights in that awful place it seemed as if she would never have a normal night’s sleep again. She felt a pair of arms wrap around her, pulling her down until she was laying with her head on Rodolphus's chest, trying to control her breathing.

"It was just a dream," he murmured into her hair. She repeated his words over and over in her head, checking her face to see if she'd been crying, thankfully no. The one thing she absolutely loathed about her time in Azkaban is what it had done to her. She felt weak, vulnerable. The only way she could stomach it was knowing that she wasn't the only one, that the others had it worse than her. She pulled herself quickly away from Rodolphus, sitting upright in the middle of the bed.

"Were you sleeping?" she asked, her voice still holding the faintest trace of shakiness.

"No," he replied flatly, sitting up beside her.

"Are you close to sleeping?" she asked, her voice almost as flat as his.

"I was about to try," he answered.

"Well don't let me stop you,” she replied, her voice so devoid of feeling that it sounded like lead.

"You sure?" asked Rodolphus, with a slight hint of concern.

"Yes. Just go to sleep," Bellatrix answered stonily. Rodolphus kissed her on the cheek before settling down on his side of the bed. Bellatrix sighed quietly before lying back down on her side, their backs facing each other.

She tried to sleep but couldn't. If she closed her eyes the memories returned, she could almost see dementors in the shadows of the room, hiding in the wardrobe, hovering in the darkness, waiting. She was anticipating the bone deep chill that came with their presence, tucking herself further into the duvet. Eventually she resorted to staring at the ceiling, watching the candlelight flicker. She had no idea how much time had passed before she felt stirring beside her.

She looked over and saw Rodolphus tossing and turning violently in his sleep. She sighed, knowing that she was going to have to wake him up. She shifted in the bed, pinning him down by his arms as he thrashed underneath her. She leaned even further over him, gripping his wrists firmly. One hand sprung free of her grip, scratching her as she fought to get it back. She cursed as Rodolphus's fingernails scraped across her skin.

"Wake up," she hissed, trying not to shout. Her commands were not met.

Eventually she ended up slapping his cheeks in an attempt to wake him up, which worked after a few tries. Bellatrix slapped Rodolphus particularly hard and he slowly stopped struggling, his eyes flying open and his breathing heavy.

"It's just me Rod, relax. It's me," said Bellatrix in an attempt to calm him down. Slowly Rodolphus began to get his bearings, returning to his pre nightmare calm. He brought a hand up to his face and rubbed his face, which was no doubt red from where Bellatrix had slapped him.

"Did you slap me?" he asked, not angrily, more lazily, his voice low from sleep. Bellatrix almost smiled.

"Yes,” she stated. “You wouldn't wake up. And you scratched me so consider us even."

"I scratched you?" he wondered aloud, his thick graying eyebrows knitting together.

"Yes, when you were tossing and turning."

"My apologies," Rodolphus said formally, relaxing back against the pillow. "Fucking nightmares."

"You can say that again," responded Bellatrix with a wry laugh, settling back down on the mattress next to her husband. The heavy pile of pillows closed in around her head.

As the night progressed they fell into a consistent routine. It was the same way every night, they either didn’t want to sleep, couldn’t sleep, or had the brief snatches of sleep they did find taken away by cruelly vivid nightmares. Their checking in with each other was beginning to get repetitive.

"Were you sleeping?"

"No."

"Good. Are you trying to sleep?"

"No. I don’t see much point."

"You need to sleep."

"I'll be fine. You try and sleep."

It was the same thing, hour after hour, day after day, this uncomfortable energy that neither of them could shake. They were starting to irritate each other, their shared frustration making everything even worse.

"I thought we said that we'd help each other through this,” hissed Rodolphus, his gaze almost harsh under the dim light. Bellatrix looked him square in the eye.

"We also said that we wouldn’t let the other feel helpless," Bellatrix responded, annoyance humming through her like an extra layer of skin.

"Do you feel helpless?" he asked her, raising his eyebrows. He knew that she would never admit to it if she was feeling helpless, but her tossing and turning and sighing had long since become annoying and he just wanted her to sleep, so threatening her with perceived weakness might be the only thing to work.

"No," she answered, standoffish just as he anticipated.

"Would sleeping make you feel helpless?"

"No."

"Well then,” he said quietly, laying back down and extending an arm out for her to lay on his chest, seeing if she was desperate enough to take it. “Come here."

"Fine," huffed Bellatrix, laying down against her husband’s chest. In any other circumstance, it would have felt unnatural. It had been so long since they’d been close like this, even before they were both thrown in freezing cold cells, but it was the only thing they had tried in the weeks since they’d been out that had worked for a brief amount of time.

The sleep didn’t last long however, and soon they were both staring at the bedroom ceiling, listening to the sounds of one of their comrades sleepwalking outside.

"Poor bastard," said Bellatrix, listening to him screaming and stumbling around Malfoy manor through the walls.

"Just think, that could be us," Rodolphus highlighted. The thought made Bellatrix grimace in disgust.

“Are you going to try and sleep?" asked Bellatrix, unable to think of any other way to break the silence.

"I was going to," Rodolphus replied flatly, like he wondered why he was even trying. Bellatrix wondered too.

"This better sort itself out soon," she huffed, rolling over so her back was facing him, feeling him roll into a symmetrical position.

"One can only hope," said Rodolphus.

"I’m serious,” Bellatrix continued. She hated what that place had done to her, and she was determined to beat it, no matter what, even if none of the others could. “I am going to get a decent night’s sleep if it kills me." She then closed her eyes, let out a deep sigh of frustration, and fought back the images of dementors as she tried to sleep.


	40. Diminished

Draco Malfoy looked up at his family home, studied it as his father opened the large wrought iron gate in front of them. He looked at its grandeur, the expansive gardens with meticulously trimmed hedges, dotted with white peacocks strutting about. He looked at the main building, towering up towards the pale blue sky, and found his bedroom window. He let out a small sigh, coming home for Christmas or Easter always filled him with happiness, he was no longer at Hogwarts, forced to coexist with mudbloods and blood traitors. When the holiday's arrived Draco always felt comfort in returning home, treading the familiar route from the gate to the front doors of the manor, always, except for now.

He knew, that as he followed his father along the gravel drive that something would be different this Easter, it would no longer just be the three of them cozily tucked away from the rest of the world in their secluded mansion. His mother had wrote to him shortly after it happened but he already knew, how could he not? It was all over the front cover of the Daily Prophet. Draco swallowed the feeling of discomfort as he stepped into the foyer of his own home, where his mother stood ready to welcome him, beaming with delight that her boy was back. He knew what was coming next, the thing that had been making him nervous since stepping off the Hogwarts express. He was about to meet the people he'd heard about all of his life but could not actually remember, the ones whose faces had been on the front page of the daily prophet, his aunt and uncle.

As he followed his mother upstairs he searched his brain for any memory of them besides his mother's tales. She'd told him that they had occasionally looked after him as a child, before they went away, but he came up with nothing. The earliest memory he could conjure of them was a picture that he found on the mantel in his parents’ bedroom, he'd been about five at the time.

_"Mummy who's that?" asked the young boy as his mother pushed a lock of blond hair from his eyes. He was looking up at a photograph, obviously of his parents' wedding day. There his mother stood, the beautiful blushing bride in an elegant dress of white satin that pooled out at the waist, veil lifted over her porcelain face. The man stood beside her was clearly the boy's father, who stood tall and proud in expertly tailored dress robes, his platinum hair tied in a loose ponytail. He looked down at his bride, one arm around her delicate waist, smiling._

_To their right stood another couple. A tall woman, her dress was sleek and formfitting, a dark material which only heightened her beauty. She had porcelain skin, much like the bride, and her face was shaped by a mass of jet black curls which spilled over her shoulders. She stood sideways next to the bride, tipping her head back haughtily as she laughed. And another man, a handsome man with short dark hair that curled at the ends. He kept a hand on the woman's waist, standing sideways like she was, looking at the camera and smiling, a wickedly charming smile which flashed perfect white teeth. He looked almost as good as the groom, and they all looked so happy._

_"That is auntie Bella and uncle Rod," his mother answered, a hint of sadness in her voice._

_"Mummy why don't I know them?" the boy continued. This was the first family he'd heard about besides his mother and father, and Grandma Black, who he only saw a few times a month._

_"You do Draco, you just don't remember them. They haven't seen you since you were a baby," she explained to her son as she held the picture, nostalgia from the day it was taken washing over her. She gave the boy a reflective smile._

_"Why?" Draco asked, looking at the picture once more. Narcissa had been dreading this question ever since young Draco's attention was brought to the picture. She looked into his blue eyes, which were wide with curiosity._

_"They," she began, trying to find just the right words. "They had to go away," she said, the sadness clear in her voice now. She let out a small sigh as she prepared for the next question._

_"Why?"_

_"Grown up reasons Draco, nothing to worry about," Narcissa explained, clearly uncomfortable with lying to her child about some of his only relatives._

_"Will they come back?" the child said, his voice full of naive hope. This only made Narcissa even sadder, it reminded her of how naive she was as a child, all that she did not know. All the hurt she was yet to experience without having the faintest idea._

_"I don't know Draco, I don't know."_

Those happy, laughing people were not the people who sat before Draco now.

He looked at them as he stood in the drawing room doorway, keeping his distance. They were at the far end of the room perched on one of the couches. They had been talking quietly amongst themselves but fell silent the minute Draco stepped in the room. He shivered with discomfort, studying them with more and more scrutiny as he edged closer. He was finally old enough to understand where they'd been his whole life, and that knowledge of where they'd been, knowing that it could well be a future he faced, made the whole thing even more uncomfortable.

The young couple full of laughter from the photograph had been replaced, with two worn and hollow shells of human beings. His aunt, once a very attractive woman, now seemed to resemble one of the hags from his childhood bedtime stories. A mass of wild shapeless frizz sat atop her head in the place of hair, thin and graying where it had once looked so thick and shiny. Her face held some of its original beauty but her skin was pasty and her cheekbones were so prominent her face looked more like a skull. She beamed when Draco approached them, flashing her crooked, yellow teeth.

"Oh Draco," she said, almost whispered as she rose from her seat. "Look how much you've grown."

Draco gave a nervous laugh in response as his aunt approached him. She walked over, heels making delicate tapping sounds on the floor, before stopping right in front of him, clouding him in the smell of her perfume, strong and stifling.

"Look at you," she said, almost whispering to herself as she studied him, the sharp focus of her gaze making Draco feel strange, like he was being looked at through an astronomy telescope. He saw the intense focus in her black eyes, the look of mild astonishment on her face, and he wondered how odd it must feel for her, being as she had not seen him since he was one year old.

"Call me auntie Bella, dear," she said, taking his wrist in her skeletal hand and leading him over towards the couch. Narcissa had already sat down, leaving one armchair free.

"Come on Dearie, don't be shy," Bellatrix sung as she led Draco towards the sofa where his uncle sat.

Draco met the eyes of his uncle Rodolphus. He too, had been physically changed by his time in Azkaban. The short curls that framed his face in the picture were now longer, greyer and much more unkempt, sticking up at awkward angles. His skin was sallow and the lower half of his face was coated in stubble, where his once clean shaven face only improved his appearance. His eyes were worn and tired where they had once shined with a wicked charm, like his smile which was now crooked, and much like his wife exposed yellow teeth. He extended a hand to Draco, who shook it. His hand was bony and callused, but his grip was firm.

"Hello uncle Rod," Draco said quietly.

"Hello Draco," Rodolphus replied gruffly, before Bellatrix pulled Draco over to the empty chair. There was a second of awkward silence.

"So, how old are you now?" asked Bellatrix, leaning intently on the arm of the couch.

"Fifteen," Draco answered quickly, a slight nervous tone to his voice.

"Sixteen in two months, Bella I told you that yesterday," Narcissa said from the second armchair.

"Well I don't remember," replied Bellatrix, in a tone Draco found rather unnecessary, feeling that she had overreacted. There was another awkward silence.

"So, how's school?" Rodolphus said nonchalantly, breaking the silence. Bellatrix turned to glare at him but he paid no attention, looking instead directly at Draco.

"It's okay I guess," he began, sounding less apprehensive than before. "Dumbledore is definitely on his way out. I'm a member of the Inquisitorial squad, which is a bit like being a prefect, and the Slytherin Quiddich team. My O.W.L.S-"

"What position?" enquired Rodolphus.

"Seeker," replied Draco. Right at that moment Lucius shuffled into the room, but stopped, leaning inside the doorframe. He looked over at Narcissa, who flashed him a warm smile.

"Nice, I was a chaser," added Rodolphus, bearing his rotten teeth. Draco relaxed slightly. His uncle appeared to be generally more approachable than his aunt, who was sat staring into space, a bored look etched across her face. Rodolphus paused and then furrowed his brow, as if something had confused him.

"I think," he began. "Or was I a beater?"

"No, you were a chaser. Your brother was a beater," corrected Bellatrix, sounding rather harsh, as if he made that mistake often and she was growing tired of forever correcting him. Rodolphus shot Bellatrix a look, but then turned back towards his nephew.

"So, how has the team been doing?" Rodolphus asked.

"Pretty good actually," Draco replied.

"Oh who wants to hear about Quiddich," interrupted Bellatrix, which earned her a few annoyed glances. Draco tried to keep a calm face, although he was surprised by her abruptness.

"So tell me Draco, have you performed an unforgivable curse yet?" asked Bellatrix, with unsettling enthusiasm. Draco had soon returned to his previous nervous state.

"Um...No I haven't," he answered, looking to his mother for guidance.

"Why not?" Demanded Bellatrix, looking straight at her sister.

"Lucius, why have you not been properly educating your son," she shouted across the room to Lucius, who was still stood in the doorway. Draco was growing ever more uncomfortable. He looked around the room. His father was now approaching, clearly aggravated by Bellatrix's criticism of his parenting methods, his mother was looking hopelessly over at Lucius and Rodolphus was just sat there, looking rather bored. His calm demeanor unnerved Draco.

"I'll have to teach you my dear," she began, slightly calmer than she had been seconds ago, but there was still an angry flush to her cheeks. "I know more than your father, I know things you wouldn't even dream of boy." Excitement shone through her black eyes as she grinned with malicious glee, just thinking about teaching him the ways of the dark arts. Draco nodded nervously in agreement but on the inside he just wanted to go back to five minutes ago when they were talking about Quiddich.

"Have you met the Dark Lord yet?" asked Bellatrix, with even more twisted excitement than which she had delivered her previous question.

"Um...no," Draco stammered, trying to hide his discomfort, suspecting that he was failing to do so.

"Why not Lucius?" questioned Bellatrix, turning her attention back to a rather frustrated Lucius, who was pursing his lips to restrain himself. "When do you expect him to take the mark?"

"Maybe he isn’t ready," Rodolphus suggested, which was met with a glare from Bellatrix.

"Oh don't be ridiculous, of course he's ready, look at him," she countered. Draco felt the eyes of everyone in the room fall on him. he wanted to melt into the floor.

"I was hoping to wait until he's closer to being of age before letting him take the mark," Lucius explained, the cold tone to his voice made it obvious that he was trying, mostly for the sake of his wife and son, not to raise it.

"There might not be time to wait, Lucius, if all goes to plan..." Bellatrix exclaimed, waving her arms in front of her for emphasis, which Draco thought, made her look even crazier than she had so far.

"Don't you think it best not to speak of that, Bellatrix," warned Lucius, almost hissing at her.

"Malfoy's got a point," added Rodolphus, still sounding as bored as ever. Bellatrix shot her husband a seething scowl, and then shot her brother in law one to match. Her dark eyes bore into both of them, clearly vexed that they had bested her. She stood there for a moment, fuming away in unsettling silence that they were right. She swore she almost saw a nervous tick in Lucius's eye.

"My tea is cold, I'm getting another one," she said abruptly before strutting out of the room, her heels tapping making a loud rhythm on the wooden floor and her skirt swishing around her ankles. Once she had left another awkward silence settled over the rooms remaining occupants.

"I... um... need to go and unpack," Draco stammered, rising from his chair. He felt suddenly less tense now that his aunt had left the room. Lucius gave an exhale of relief.

"I might try and get some sleep," said Rodolphus, so quietly it was almost as if he was talking to himself. Draco looked up at his uncle, furrowing his brow.

"Sleep? But it's the middle of the afternoon," he questioned, slightly confused.

"I think myself lucky I can sleep at all," Rodolphus began, raising his eyebrows slightly, as if he was either confused or amused by Draco. “Poor old Rookwood used to wander the hallways at night after we first got out."

"Well... anyway.... unpacking," Draco replied rather awkwardly, inwardly shuddering at the mental image of grown men pacing around in the dead of night like zombies, haunted by their nightmares. He pictured himself in their shoes.

Draco speedily left the room. He reflected on his encounter with his aunt and uncle, wishing he could remember a time before Azkaban had changed them. He thought that maybe he would have preferred them then. Maybe he wouldn’t have come home to an aunt who was crazy and an uncle who always seemed so bored, like he had given up on the world. Or maybe he would have. He didn't know whether it had been Azkaban that had changed them or being Death Eaters, but one thing he knew was that they were definitely not the people his mother used to tell him about and they were definitely not the people in that happy picture on the mantelpiece.

He could end up like them. The future Draco faced as a Death Eater felt more real than ever now, and that terrified him. He didn't want to go to Azkaban, not if it did _that_ to people. He knew as soon as he'd walked in that room that he didn't want to end up like the broken shells of human beings that he called his aunt and uncle.


	41. different pains

Narcissa Malfoy dabbed delicately at the tears spilling from the corner of her eyes, glancing out at the mass of sand and sea that spread in front of her and her sister Bellatrix as they sat on jagged rocks that rose out of the sand. It had been a month since the battle at the department of mysteries, which had seen both her husband and her sister’s thrown into Azkaban.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, catching the judgemental glimmer in her sister’s gaze. “I just miss him, that’s all.”

“Understandable,” replied Bellatrix, who was now focused on the dirty brown of the waves as they crashed against the sand. This was the beach that she had been reunited with her sister on after she was broken out of Azkaban. She couldn’t remember, as it was dark the last time she was here, but she knew it was the very same beach as Narcissa knew the location instinctively, insisting they come as she couldn’t take sitting around at home much longer. She’d wanted to be as close to Lucius as she could be.

“I worry about him in there,” Narcissa continued, placing a hand on her chest as worry lines decorated her face. The sun was out, which wasn’t uncommon for late July, it was the first sun Bellatrix’s skin had seen since the break out. The light from its rays highlighted how much Narcissa’s skin had aged since Bellatrix had last seen her. Narcissa was twenty six when Bellatrix had gone to Azkaban, and now she was forty one. It had taken Bellatrix a while to get used to her face now.

“Do you not worry about Rodolphus in there?” asked Narcissa, noticing how quiet her sister had been on her husband’s return to incarceration.

“Not really, no,” Bellatrix answered, looking back at the ocean rather than her sister, who was perched on a rock opposite her.

“It seems as if you don’t even care at all that he’s in there.”

 Bellatrix took in her sister’s words, not feeling the need to correct her. She could get by perfectly fine on her own, and she was furious with him for getting himself captured again. She hadn’t realized just how content she’d become with his near constant company until he was no longer there.

After escaping Azkaban, their relationship had changed. They were rediscovering each other again, now older and a little bit bruised. There was no energy left for the tempestuous storm their marriage had morphed into before they were imprisoned, and they had both endured the same hell. The physical and psychological toll that resulted from those fourteen years required a serious swallowing of pride, and there was nobody else she would trust with seeing her that vulnerable.

He’d promised to keep her secrets, and she his, as they struggled through the restless nights of only an hours sleep at a time, the agonising hunger pangs as their bodies readjusted to having proper sustenance. He’d stood beside her as she gagged on the thickness of the toothpaste in her mouth as she brushed her teeth. Watched her wince as her gums screamed in protest and she spat blood, fearing that her remaining teeth were buried in with the foam at the bottom of the sink. Bellatrix would have died before letting anybody else see her scream herself awake from nightmares, notice the emptiness that filled her at the slightest hint of cold.

_“Do you fancy a shower?” asked Bellatrix, turning her neck to glance at Rodolphus, who lay in bed beside her. His eyes darted away from where they were focused on the window and met hers, heavy from a patchy sleep. She sat up slowly, wincing as her muscles protested the movement. All of them ached. Her legs, exhausted from being properly used for the first time in fourteen years. Her neck and shoulders, having forgotten how it felt to be supported by a mattress and pillows. She tried to sit herself upright even further, but her arms were too weak to shift the rest of her body. They looked like they belonged on a baby bird._

_“I was going to attempt to brush my hair,” explained Bellatrix, twisting a matted clump of it around her finger. She’d fallen asleep before having the chance to brush it last night, meaning it was still all twisted together like vines. “And there’s no way I’m getting a brush through this dry.”_

_“Hot water, I’m in,” replied Rodolphus, smiling crookedly at Bellatrix as she eased herself out of bed, soon following behind._

_Bellatrix still felt unsteady on her legs, the feeling of walking a completely alien sensation. She pictured herself as a newborn Hippogriff, stumbling as its legs buckled beneath it. Anger gathered in her chest as she slowly made her way to the bathroom, clenching her fists as it exploded with an intensity she forgot her mind possessed._

_“Cut yourself some slack,” said Rodolphus from behind her after she let out a frustrated huff. “We’ve not even been out twenty four hours. And anyway, I’m finding it strange too.” He offered her his arm, and she took it, feeling less powerless knowing that she wasn’t alone._

_Once they were in the bathroom, they made their way over to the shower cubicle built into the wall of the far corner beside the bath. Last night, Bellatrix had been so immersed in the colour of the room, the feel of the tile against her calloused feet, and the pure ecstasy that was being submerged in hot water, that she had mistaken the shower for a cupboard._

_Rodolphus opened the glass door and turned on the shower as Bellatrix removed the black silk nightwear covering her body, letting it fall to the floor. He let her get in first, and she hissed in pain as the water touched her skin._

_“It’s too hot,” she exclaimed, backing away from the direct flow from the showerhead. Her voice was high and unsteady, almost bearing a hint of distress. This was awfully embarrassing._

_“Stick one arm under it,” suggested Rodolphus, who was removing his nightwear on the other side of the glass. Bellatrix realized that she hadn’t really seen his body in detail since they’d come back. She found herself suddenly desperate to assess the damage Azkaban had done to him._

_“Okay,” she replied, doing as he instructed. Eventually her body began to adjust to the temperature. She moved herself under the showerhead, allowing the spray to cover her completely. She closed her eyes, smiling so hard that her face hurt at the sensation of the water licking her skin. She didn’t even notice that Rodolphus had gotten in too until she felt his hands wrap around her sides, his fingers splaying out over her ribcage._

_“You’re so thin,” he observed, his voice low. Bellatrix opened her eyes, watching his roam over her body. His hands trailed up her arms, across her exposed collarbone, before settling against her back. He smirked at her. “Still perfect though.” She laughed, bringing her hands up to rest on his chest._

_“You’re thin too,” she replied, almost gasping as she studied the bruises and cuts that marred his arms and torso. He’d had a fantastic body. A broad, toned chest, firm biceps, and strong muscular legs. Bellatrix had never grown tired of looking at it. Now she could feel his bones through his skin, his ribs and hip bones jutting out between the purple and yellow patchwork that covered him. Looking at what had become of him created a hollow ache in her chest._

_“We’ll soon sort that,” said Rodolphus confidently, catching her hand in his as it trailed down his arms. He was still a very good looking man, and Bellatrix bit her lip as he flashed her a smile, feeling the urge to pull him closer as her eyes explored the sharp edges of his face. He turned her around, keeping her steady against the wave of dizziness the sudden movement brought, and then began gently running a brush through her hair._

_They spent the rest of the shower in silence, only communicating through touch. Bellatrix wanted to explore every inch of him with her hands, craving the feeling of his hands on her in return. Her skin tingled wherever it met his, the warmth and comfort from it flooding her senses until she found herself gently laughing. She felt sorry for the others. They didn’t have this, they didn’t have anybody to remind them how glorious it felt to be touched._

She’d needed to allow herself that sliver of vulnerability in order to heal. She couldn’t stand being around the others, seeing how open they were with their scars. Even Rabastan was a nervous wreck. She’d wanted to keep Rodolphus to herself, to let nobody else interrupt the comfortable little world they’d created. She’d never wanted to be touched, to be kissed, so much in her life. Their relationship had always been heavily physical, but this was something else entirely.

It wasn’t just how they’d supported each other when they were at their weakest, his attitude had changed too. He finally understood that she was a soldier first, her own person second, and a partner third. Rodolphus had realized that serving the Dark Lord would always come first for her, and he stayed out of her way when she wanted him too. This made his company much more enjoyable. She hadn’t felt this content since right after they got married, the accompanying high that followed their freedom only adding to the feeling.

Now Rodolphus was back in Azkaban, she felt his absence more than she ever thought she would. Their bedroom felt less comfortable, and she found herself hating to be alone. She spent most of the time in the presence of Narcissa or the Dark Lord, but Narcissa wasn’t a fugitive and therefore able to leave the house, and the Dark Lord often grew tired of her hanging around. She’d helped him form his next plans, and that had fuelled her during the day, but she would admit to no one just how alone she felt at night.

“He survived fourteen years in there,” Bellatrix began, her voice cold. “He can handle one more.”

“But,” stammered Narcissa, confusion and concern lacing her features.

“The difference between your husband and mine,” responded Bellatrix, aware that what she said to her sister was about to hurt, but not caring. “Is that both of us know that Lucius won’t cope in there.”

Narcissa sobbed, gutted by the truth in her sister’s words. Lucius wasn’t built to survive gruelling environments like Azkaban. Bellatrix had always made her dislike of him clear to Narcissa, declaring him a coward that she merely tolerated for her sake. Narcissa had never told her that Lucius felt similarly about her.

While the four of them had often spent time together, even vacationing together once a year if they could manage it, it was incredibly obvious to Narcissa that the relationship her sister shared with her husband, was nothing like the one she shared with Lucius. She knew that the peculiarity of their relationship had been a result of them joining the Death Eaters, as they had been joined at the hip before that. But from that point onwards, you never knew which version of them you were going to get. Sometimes they’d seem their usual selves, and others they were arguing with each other or barely acknowledging each other’s existence.

Lucius had told Narcissa that he couldn’t really stand either of them, as he found their manners lacking and disliked the fact that they refused to leave their arguments at home. She liked her brother in law, as he was funny, and could be a calming influence to Bellatrix’s chaos. However, the fact that he seemed to care about absolutely nothing, besides Bellatrix, unnerved Narcissa somewhat. She commended him, though, after what joining the Death Eater’s had done to her sister. Narcissa did note, that there were times that they seemed like a regular couple, and that was usually when they worked together. She remembered them laughing together like Hogwarts school children at one of her parties, when the pair worked together and got Lucius so drunk that Narcissa thought he was going to die of alcohol poisoning, something which both of them had clearly found amusing.

“I know, I know,” wailed Narcissa, her voice shaking as she tried to steady it. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“You carry on,” said Bellatrix immediately, sternly. “We have more important things to be doing that worrying about what’s going on in there.” She looked out to sea, knowing the tower of a building was out there somewhere.

“Bella,” exclaimed Narcissa, thinking her sister’s outlook harsh.

“You do not stop functioning simply because your husband is not around,” Bellatrix continued, shuffling on the rock that served as her perch. “Your son needs you. He’s about to take on a mission of great importance.” Narcissa sobbed again.

“Push it from your mind Cissy,” instructed Bellatrix, her tone firm and cold. “You’ll thank me for it.”

“I’ll try,” responded Narcissa, taking a shaky breath as she willed herself to stop crying.

Bellatrix looked at her sister once more, grateful that she never let herself get that affected by Rodolphus’s return to prison. She knew that she felt a difference, and that was enough for her. There were far more exciting things happening in the outside world, and she wanted to enjoy them fully. After all, she was a soldier first and foremost, and her husband knew that.


	42. Last Christmas

Darkness had fallen on Malfoy manor. The dim glow from the chandeliers was the only light, the tinsel that decorated them casting beams of various vibrant colors across the drawing room where the majority of the manor's residents now stood, still in high Christmas spirit. The main dinner had ended several hours ago, and now everyone was gathered in drunken merriment whilst cheerful music played loudly throughout the manor. It was a scene that seemed so out of place, so contrasted against the dark and fearful atmosphere that usually filled the halls. People were dancing, singing, raising more glasses whilst the rest of the world was in such turmoil, but that was life for the privileged. And whilst the eerily merry atmosphere seemed a polite distraction from the real world, there were some whom it did not please.

Bellatrix stood gazing out of the kitchen window, watching the snow continue to fall, the flurry of white droplets adding to the vast plane of snow that has already covered the grounds. An empty wine glass twisted absentmindedly through her bony fingers, and at one point it crossed her mind how she hadn’t broken it, but that thought disappeared before long. Christmas had never been a brilliant time for her. She despised the merriment, the gaudiness, and the memories that the holiday brought with it. The ones which she so often swallowed down to the depths of her mind which she daren’t reach into, but they always found a way back to her. Every Christmas, memories of the taste of whiskey and burned tapestry. The day she felt like she’d been ripped apart and swore never to feel like that again. The promise that broke over and over, the person who was no longer there.

A single set of footsteps startled her from her miserable reverie. She turned around, trying not to drop the glass that balanced daintily in her hand as she looked up at her husband’s face.

"There you are," said Rodolphus, making his way over to the counter.

"I wanted to be out of the way," Bellatrix explained, mustering what she could of her usual cold demeanor.

"I thought you might, I know how much you dislike Christmas," Rodolphus replied. It frustrated her greatly that in all these years he could always see through her, no matter how much denial she threw at him. He stepped closer. He didn’t touch her, he didn’t speak, just allowed her to have a moment in quiet. He’d learned she responded best to space.

"Another drink?" he offered, picking up a half empty bottle of wine from the side.

"Go on then," she said flatly, watching the deep red liquid slosh around the edge of the bowl of the glass as it filled, settling like a pint of blood. Rodolphus poured himself a matching glass and together they both took long swigs, setting the glasses back on the counter almost in unison.

"Beautiful isn’t it," Bellatrix sighed, regret tingeing her mouth as soon as the words were out. She was back looking at the grounds, the untouched white blanket that seemed to cover everything. It held a strange kind of oblivious peace, completely numb to the world. A feeling Bellatrix sometimes wished for.

"Sort of makes you want to go outside and run in it," Rodolphus added. Bellatrix shook her head at his childish hope, one that he had held all of his life. She pitied him for it, she truly did, but often she thought she might also envy him for that very reason.

"Not particularly, that seems a rather childish thought," she deadpanned, taking his hope and shoving her stiletto heel through it, the way she had done most of their married life.

"I don’t think there is any harm in acting childishly occasionally," he defended, and again Bellatrix found herself shaking her head in pity.

"Then I think you're a fool," she said, she would have spat it but she thought that too emotional.

Rodolphus was silenced. He was used to this behaviour by now, the same behaviour that he knew would spring back eventually, after the post Azkaban peace. The icy detachment, the persistent refusal to acknowledge emotion. He’d hoped it wouldn’t come back, but as soon as he was sprung from his second stint in Azkaban, there it was again. The only difference now was that they argued less, since she was far too busy for him. Since his first time in Azkaban he’d grown tired of fighting it like he did in their youth, life was just quieter that way. Instead he just diverted the subject.

"Did you realize that this is the first Christmas we've spend together in," he began, counting out the years on crooked fingers. "Seventeen years."

"No I didn’t," Bellatrix responds, the faintest note of confusion detectable amongst the flat tone. "What about last year?"

"I was locked up last year," Rodolphus clarified.

"Oh so you were, I must have forgotten," she laughed, hoping that it made him feel insignificant, enough to distract him from the fact that she was clearly losing her grip of past events, both distant and recent. That Azkaban memory.

"Did I miss much last year?" he asked.

"No,” scoffed Bellatrix, finding the notion of last year’s Christmas party being at all worth being at laughable.

“Just Narcissa crying about Lucius, not enough alcohol, and the Carrow’s performing drunken renditions of Weird Sisters classics," she explained, her face contorting into an uncomfortable grimace as she listed the events off.

"Sounds fun," Rodolphus replied, his voice filled with the sarcastic charm it once owned, and for a split second, Bellatrix missed that old voice, the one that was filled with mischief and promise, that she considered one of his best qualities. The one that hadn’t in so long fallen on her ears that she almost forgot what it sounded like, and there it was like a ghost. She bit her lip to ensure that he didn’t see her smile.

"You would think that," she huffed back in his direction, glancing quickly over and meeting his hazel eyes for a fraction of a second before pulling her gaze back towards the window, taking in another mouthful of wine without even looking at the glass. Rodolphus felt each second tick by, swallowed by familiar silence, knowing that he would very soon lose her attention if he didn’t speak soon. He stared down at his glass, looking at the shimmer of his reflection in the liquid’s surface.

"Did the Dark Lord make an appearance?" Rodolphus eventually spoke, resenting the words as soon as they left his lips when he saw the way Bellatrix turned towards him, a new light in her eyes.

"No. I imagine he is much above all of this pathetic holiday celebration," she answered, haughty and interested, there was emotion to her voice for the first time that night and that fact would have once made Rodolphus’s fists clench, but now it just left a hollow feeling inside him, one he was so accustomed to by now that he’d learned to just ignore it. He observed the way it pleased her to have a dislike of Christmas in common with _him_ , like she felt it connected them. Rodolphus paused, thinking of a way to distance himself from the condescension in her expression.

"To be completely honest Bells, I just see it as an excuse to get drunk," he said, feeling pathetically like he was trying to justify his own feelings to his wife. Bellatrix took another quick sip from her glass, droplets of wine staining her lips as they turned upwards into a smirk.

"Now that, Rod, is a commendable outlook," she said, widening the grin she aimed in her husband’s direction.

"Why, thank you," he replied, his face sporting a matching smirk and a glimmer of mischievous charm in his eyes that both of them thought was dead. He wasn’t about to ignore the scraps of attention she threw him, so he flashed a flirty smile and played along like he always had done. Bellatrix allowed herself one hiss of laughter at his actions before forcing her face back into its stony mold. Both of them fell swiftly silent once the moment of entertainment was over, both sipping on their wine to ignore the obvious echoes of what their relationship used to be, choosing instead to let them disappear like smoke.

"The Dark Lord thinks he's close to finding it," said Bellatrix after a few minutes of silence had passed, an almost dream-like tone to her voice.

"Sorry, love," Rodolphus replied, having not paid attention. He could feel the wine going to his head and effecting his concentration. Between his age and the physical damage from Azkaban, he wasn’t what he used to be.

"The Elder wand,” clarified Bellatrix. “The dark Lord thinks he's closer to finding the Elder Wand, and after Potter was spotted at the ministry a few months ago he thinks we may even be closer to killing him too."

Rodolphus tried to pretend that it wasn’t her enthusiasm making his stomach cold, and was the wine instead, but failed. He’d accepted it now, that he no longer mattered to her as much as their cause, that he was more like a toy that a child picked up when they were bored and then quickly discarded than a husband. That didn’t make it any easier to accept though.

"Just imagine it Rod, by this time next year we could finally have everything we've fought for,” Bellatrix continued ardently, glancing out of the window and then back to Rodolphus. “We could be celebrating a wizarding society that has changed for the better."

"That would be a brilliant Christmas, Bells," he responded, hoping that his feigned pleasure was convincing.

"It still won’t make me enjoy the wretched holiday, but it definitely would be much better," added Bellatrix, almost smiling at him.

"Do you reckon that we should finish this bottle Bells?" asked Rodolphus, springing on one of her rare good moods with the intention of making the most of it, spending as much time with her as possible where she wasn’t arguing with or ignoring him.

"Yes,” she agreed, her attention quickly darting to the adjacent room. “But can we take it upstairs to our room, I really do not want to spend another minute down here."

"Of course," said Rodolphus.

"The only thing I want to do right now is get drunk."

"Hear, hear to that, Bells.” Rodolphus grabbed the bottle of wine from the counter.

"Now let’s go upstairs before my sister finds us and makes an embarrassing attempt to encourage us to do something festive."

"And before somebody tries to make me take responsibility for my brother, who I think I see passed out on the floor in the corner of the drawing room." The pair of them glanced over at the entrance where a pair of legs which were unmistakably Rabastan’s poked out from behind an armchair.

"Well don’t just stand there, get moving," ordered Bellatrix, tapping Rodolphus on the shoulder before the pair of them skulked off upstairs to spend Christmas drinking wine in their bedroom. While it was simple, and not at all celebratory, it was perfect, especially since they had no idea that this Christmas together would be their last.

 


	43. Everything we wanted

The air of the night held a surprising chill as the mass of black shadows advanced through the forest, moving together like a sea of cloaks between the trees. The Dark Lord headed the group, leading them over the uneven ground. Rodolphus moved near the front of the group, Bellatrix on his left and Rabastan on his right.

He could feel the excitement radiating from Bellatrix, hear her giggling to herself as they grew closer and closer to their destination. He’d not discouraged her excitement, no longer able to argue against anything that brought her happiness, even if that never seemed to be him anymore. His energy for such had long since depleted, after two stints in Azkaban and his age and the scars of the life he’d led finally catching up with him.

As they marched towards the stone castle that had once housed them as they’d grown into adults, the atmosphere amongst the group became tangible. Anticipation mixed with fear and lingered in the air around them, sticking to the leaves of each tree they passed. Rodolphus felt neither, moving forwards with the wave of people and creatures that the Dark Lord had accumulated over the years as they were about to make the most crucial move of their entire fight. He was doing so more out of duty than belief now. He had lost faith that this was a winning fight after his first time in prison, only maintaining the image of loyalty as it kept him close to his wife, allowed the both of them to survive.

At his side, Bellatrix tugged on his arm, unable to contain the manic energy that pulled her forwards. She wanted them closer, as close to the Dark Lord as they could possibly get. He allowed himself to be pulled, losing his brother in the swarm advancing towards Hogwarts. He was unsure why she was taking him with her, he would have expected her just to leave him and propel herself to the front alone. Her grip was tight and uncomfortable as they stumbled over jagged roots and dips in the forest floor.

After pushing their way to the front, Bellatrix let go of him, but kept an eye on him to make sure that the crowd didn’t eat him. Her attention remained fixed on the back of the Dark Lord’s serpent like head, but her gaze occasionally fell to her right, just to make sure he was still there. Rodolphus had no idea what she was up to. This was the kind of circumstance in which she usually forgot that he existed entirely.

The Dark Lord stopped moving, causing the crowd to grid to a halt. He slowly stepped out on a raised rock that speared out in the middle of the forest, a small clearing surrounding it. Bellatrix took off after him, wandering out past the invisible line that kept the distance between the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters until she was stood at the bottom of the ledge. She’d taken off the way a child followed a butterfly around the garden if it was captivating enough, eyes wide with admiration. There was the Bellatrix Rodolphus had been expecting.

He noted how she’d become so child like after Azkaban. Before that, anger had coursed through her the way a predator lay in wait for its victims. She could conceal it for hours or unleash it all at once, now her emotions exploded the second she felt them. She was also much better at concealing how drawn she was to their Lord before Azkaban. Before, she had stuck closely by him, trained by his side with no one else around, but had been so calculated in hiding any affections for him that questioning her about their closeness could immediately be highlighted as unreasonable. Now she was as subtle as an excitable child around their favourite toy, or a student with their first crush. The fact that the Dark Lord openly shunned any human emotion besides anger was some comfort to him, but it never lessened the sting.

The Dark Lord stood commandingly atop the rock, sending a message to those in the castle for them to bring out Harry Potter, and nobody would get hurt. The response shortly after, was the twinkling lights of a defensive barrier being cast around Hogwarts, each casted spell like a star in the night sky. As Rodolphus was watching the barrier form around the castle they were planning to storm, he felt a hand slip into his as he was tugged abruptly in another direction. Once he’d gathered his bearings, he realized it was Bellatrix, watching her mass of black curls bounce with each step they took.

They reached the edge of the crowd, sloping off behind some trees. Rodolphus still had no idea what Bellatrix was doing, and stood with his back resting against the trunk of the nearest tree as he awaited an explanation.

“Will you promise me something,” asked Bellatrix, meeting his eyes fiercely. Determination shone through her voice, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she breathed.

“What?” he replied, shoving his hands in the pockets of his robes.

“If you find her,” Bellatrix began explaining, inching closer to him. “Will you bring her to me?”

The ‘her’ in question, was Bellatrix’s niece Nymphadora. The only child of her disgraced sister Andromeda and the mudblood she married. The Dark Lord had tasked her with disposing of the witch back in July, and she had only had one opportunity to make an attempt on her life so far, which had resulted in the attempt being botched and Rodolphus being injured by the young witch.

“Might I remind you that you owe me this,” ranted Bellatrix before Rodolphus could even answer, the determination in her voice now replaced with anger. “Since you ruined the last chance I got.” Bellatrix hadn’t been sympathetic to that injury, instead arguing that it was what caused her to fail to kill her niece.

“I don’t know what you’re getting so wound up for,” argued Rodolphus, tilting his head to the side as he studied her. “Of course I will. I know how important this is to you.”

Bellatrix softened them, the half formed scowl on her face melting into a smile. Rodolphus was almost surprised to see it, completely genuine and barely noticeable in the moonlight. The look in her eyes changed too, shifting from defensiveness to trust. However distant they had become over the course of their marriage, however captivated by another man she was, he was her oldest friend. She knew that she could trust him, which considering how Bellatrix had all but given up on people entirely, said a lot.

“Just think,” she said, her voice much lower and relaxed, almost laughing. “In a few hours we’ll have everything we wanted. Everything our lives have been for.” She looked up at the sky dreamily as the words floated out. Rodolphus certainly wasn’t convinced this was true, but there was no way she could ever tell. It dawned on him then, that in their ongoing battle of wits, he’d won. He’d always been able to see through her, see past whatever wall she’d thrown up to protect herself. But she had never seen through him. He read her eyes like a book and knew her behavior too well, but she could never tell how much he hid from her.

“That we will,” he replied, as convincing as ever. She may have been the most powerful soldier their side had ever seen, but she had never seen through him unless he wanted her too. A jet of light flew past them and into the sky, distracting them from their moment and demanding their attention. The Dark Lord had launched the first attack on the barrier.

“This is terribly exciting,” grinned Bellatrix, enthusiasm pouring back into her body like wine coursing down her throat. She smiled at Rodolphus, the beautiful, mischievous smile that she had worm for most of their time at Hogwarts, the one the dementors had almost sucked from his memory completely. Their eyes met, charged with electricity and anticipation, before Bellatrix grabbed both his cheeks and kissed him hard.

“I have to go,” she said once she’d pulled away, desperate to be back at the side of her master. “Don’t forget our promise.”

“I won’t.” Bellatrix backed away from him, meeting his eyes one last time.

“See you on the battlefield,” she said, before disappearing back into the crowd. Rodolphus quickly followed suit, stepping back into the throng of people gathered in the woods and ready to attack. He readied himself, finding his wand in his robe pocket. As his hand closed around it, a second bolt of light shot up into the sky towards the barrier, and he knew instinctively, that it had belonged to his wife.


	44. Worth it

Rodolphus Lestrange looked up at the damp walls and ceiling of his new cell in the building that had been his home thrice now. Unlike the other two times, he was content with his place here now, no longer willing to fight the inevitable. He didn’t know how long it had been since May 2nd, and hadn’t even tried to keep track. He had fully accepted that he was never going to see the world outside of this building again.

He’d surrendered quietly when he’d been caught, letting them take him without a fuss. He knew the war was lost, and that there was no point in trying to fight for freedom after all he’d done. He hadn’t been surprised, the moment he saw the Dark Lord’s lifeless body on the cold ground. He wasn’t sure he had anything left in him to feel after looking down and seeing the body of his wife.

He knew her obsession was going to kill her. That was the first thought he conjured when whoever had hold of him dragged him past her body. She’d been completely lost to the fight, and there was nothing he could have done to stop it. He didn’t feel anger towards her, just an empty hole spreading through his chest as he was carted off the castle grounds.

She’d essentially been his entire life. She was his best friend, the only woman he’d ever loved. She dragged him through hell and back and he’d followed her willingly, even when he was so furious with her that he could barely look at her, when he’d watched her openly fawn over another man. He’d spent almost half his life in a waking nightmare as the result of her unyielding loyalty, all the while she cast him off whenever a man who could never show genuine human love gave her the slightest bit of attention.

Rodolphus had reflected on his life many times as he sat confined within the walls of the towering sea locked structure. The same question had always hung at the back of his mind, more appropriate now that it ever had been. Was it worth it? Was she worth it?

She had been responsible for the worst days of his life. She had been cruel, made him feel like he was nothing. She had reminded him of everything he wasn’t whenever she got the chance, lashing out at him whenever he had the audacity to raise perfectly rational concerns about her behaviour. He had suffered through every mind game, every unpredictable mood of hers. She’d hit him and cursed him and even threatened to kill him, toying with his emotions for her own amusement.

She was the reason he lost fourteen years of his life to this hellish fortress. She blew hot and cold, knowing he would hang on to whatever she gave him because he loved her. He’d realized that she never truly loved him as much as he loved her, but the fact that she kept him around was enough. He had known that their relationship was never going to be normal, more like a friendship, and it had been, but no friendship soured as much as theirs had, when she’d developed a dark and obsessive love for their master and decided that she was too good for everyone around her, especially him.

But he had loved her, fully, completely, the way human beings were supposed to love. That love had ruined his life, and he supposed that he finally understood her now. Life was less painful when you pretended your feelings didn’t exist.

He knew that wishing for things to have been different was futile now that she was dead, he’d given up on picturing what their life could have been like long ago. He’d been emotionally dead for so long, apart from his love for her that had refused to loosen its grip, even when things were at their worst.

Despite all of the desperate lows, he couldn’t forget the highs. She’d held energy and charisma like no one he’d ever met. She’d sucked him in, made him laugh so hard his entire body ached, made him feel like life couldn’t possibly get any better when things were still good. Even after she’d ignored him and cursed him, toyed with him mercilessly, she still trusted him with sides of her that she entrusted to no one else, not even her sister. He was the only person she could be vulnerable around, and for that he felt immensely grateful. It meant that he wasn’t nothing to her, as much as she wanted to pretend he was.

She had been a whirlwind, a forceful storm that swept into his life and stayed there, throwing him against the jagged cliffs only to pull him back again. Their relationship had become so twisted after starting out so well, filled with heights and many drops, but always a constant. She had shared her victories with him excitedly and ranted about other’s failures. She had planned and plotted and reigned terror, all with him by her side.

He didn’t know how long he had left in this world, wondering if he would see her when it was time for death to claim him. He liked the idea of that, despite all the pain and anger and torture she had caused him, all of the anguish and heartache. She had been a constant presence in his life, whether good or bad, and he knew in his heart, that even after everything, she had been worth it.


End file.
